Betrayal of Loyalty
by anngraham
Summary: Unknown circumstances forces Graham into fleeing from Dr. Arcane in a stunning betrayal. Throwing him into a situation that could prove to be more treacherous than anything he's faced before.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: This is a non-profit work of fiction. All characters and places belong to those who created, and produced Swamp Thing.

**Notes:** This is the first story I ever attempted to write, through the ringer of several major edits of course. With luck this is the last incarnation. This whole story wouldn't have been possible without the encouragement and support of a truly great person. Thank you Fran! You were the best.

**Betrayal of Loyalty**

"I heard you call to me," Alec's voice disturbed the watching stillness of the air. "What is wrong, old friend?" Gently placing his hand on the trunk of an ancient cypress tree, he closed his eyes and concentrated on interpreting The Swamp's answer.

"A building?" Alec repeated thoughtfully. "Who would construct a building on the edge of the Swamp? Arcane?" Frowning he concentrated again on The Swamp's answer. "No. Not Arcane." He relaxed slightly, "Strangers to the area then ..."

Alec's mind flashed back to when he himself was a stranger in town, starting out in a building not too dissimilar to the one in the Swamp's vision. "I shall investigate further, find the purpose behind this intrusion ..." frowning he trailed off uncertainly, "However I sense no danger. Am I allowing my own memories of the past to create a situation that doesn't exist?" Absently stroking the smooth bark on the old tree Alec finally shook his head, "No. There is no cause to justify delving any deeper into this, not where the risk of being seen is so high."

The decision was made, but a faint feeling of doubt assailed his mind – what if he was wrong. There may not be a sense of danger; however the whole situation felt wrong somehow. "I will keep an eye on it at least, should anything suspicious occur," Alec patted the tree farewell as the Swamp sent its gentle agreement. The incident was pushed firmly to the back of his mind as he settled back to enjoy the all too rare moments of peace and quiet pervading the atmosphere.

**One month later**

The sudden jarring noise of the telephone startled Graham, bursting his bubble of concentration. He did his best to ignore the persistent ringing, trying to focus back on completing the task of entering gene strands into a database. However the intrusive ringing kept on until with a muttered curse, Graham finally reached for the phone and picked up the offending instrument.

"Laboratory ... Graham speaking." Annoyed he barely even listened to what was being spoken on the other end. Gradually certain words filtered into his mind and he snapped to attention. "Who is this?" he demanded, "What do you want from me?" Shaking his head as if to deny the request spoken across the line he was unable to control the tremor in his voice, "I, I ... couldn't ... I ..." Graham listened in horror to the cruelly spoken words. "Please don't ..." Harshly the voice interrupted, the threat made clear, "Alright, I'll do it," Graham finally whispered in defeat, staring at the phone numbly as the other person disconnected. He was still sitting, staring quietly when the elevator hissed open and slow and steady footsteps headed in his direction. Feeling a hand touch his shoulder Graham flinched, dropping the phone and knocking over several beakers in the process.

"Graham, what on earth is the matter with you?!" Arcane glared at his assistant, who was looking decidedly on the pale side.

"Er ... nothing, Sir." Standing up Graham tried to twist his mouth into the semblance of a normal smile, knowing he'd failed when the Doctor's look of annoyance only increased. "You just startled me."

"I trust because your attention was focused on the task you are required to complete, Graham and not on anything extraneous to the job." Crossing his arms he pointedly stared at the sheets of data that still had to be typed in.

"Yes, Sir ... um, I'm almost finished everything, er .." Desperately looking around he seized the broken glass by his feet as an excuse to get out of the lab. "I'll er, just go get something to clean up this mess with first." Not waiting to hear the Doctor's reply he bolted for the elevator avoiding the Doctor's startled gaze as the doors slid shut.

"And people claim I'm mentally unstable." Arcane shook his head in exasperation, dismissing the event from his mind as he settled down to work.

After making an all out dash for his room, and receiving several strange looks along the way, Graham finally sagged against his closed and locked door in relief. After a brief moment of rest he hastily grabbed a small bag from the top of the closet and threw some clothes into it. He couldn't afford the luxury of thought, couldn't afford the doubt it would bring. Already he could feel the almost overwhelming urge to go back down to the lab and confide in the Doctor. Instead Graham stepped over to his desk to complete the last and most difficult task. Picking up a pen he hastily scrawled out a barely legible note,

_Dr. Arcane,_

_I quit. It's time to move on, I'm sorry._

_Graham_

Slipping the note into a plain white envelope he wrote the Doctor's name firmly across the front and placed it on his pillow. Picking up the small bag he was on the way out the door when his eye was caught by the framed picture of Dr. Arcane kept on the night table. Slowly Graham picked up the picture, one finger longingly tracing the image before setting it firmly face down. Taking a steadying breath he headed out of the room.

Heading down to the garage Graham had to remind himself not to run, no one was after him ... yet. Dr. Arcane had no reason to suspect that anything was up and with any luck he'd be long gone by the time anyone got suspicious. Still, it was with a sense of relief that he climbed into his truck. Now to make it out of the Complex. Pulling up to the front gates Graham resisted the urge to hit his head on the dash when he saw who was on duty - Phil! The man seemed to live for making his life as difficult as possible. Fingers crossed he hoped Phil would simply open the gates for him, the last thing he needed was for the Doctor to be informed of his absence yet. Not while there was still the very real possibility of being caught. Graham shivered at the thought of what Dr. Arcane could do him if the man thought he was being betrayed.

With a perfunctory flick of his hand Phil indicated that Graham should stop the car and roll down the window. Suppressing his impatience Graham reluctantly did as bid, "Open the gates Phil, I'm in a hurry."

Phil only smirked, his expression showing quite clearly he was going to enjoy this, "Well now, Mr. Graham, I'm only doing my job." Leaning one arm against the roof his posture suggested he wasn't going anywhere fast. "I am required to check everyone leaving the complex after all."

"That's great Phil." Graham glared at the man, doing his best to copy the Doctor's latent talent of implying impending death with a simple look – with less than obvious success. "Then you can explain to Dr. Arcane why a vital part for his new experiment didn't get picked up on time because you stood in the way." A satisfied smile crossed his face at Phil's sudden fearful expression. "I'm sure you'll survive the encounter ... more or less intact."

Phil glared balefully at him as he hurriedly stepped away from the car. "I'll open the gate, Mr. Graham." Sneering his name Phil attempted to salvage some dignity as he stepped back into his booth and hit the switch to open the gates.

Waving cheerfully Graham drove past, letting out a sigh of relief once he was through. Once out of sight of the Complex he floored the gas pedal, doing well over the speed limit in order to gain as much time as possible. Luck stayed on his side in not being stopped by a police cruiser or slowed down by traffic; making it to Houma's National Airport in record time. Parking Graham turned off the car tiredly, listening to the quiet ticking noises of an overheated engine before forcing himself to move and make his way into the airport.

"Hey isn't that Arcane's assistant over there?" Will asked Tressa, gesturing over to where Graham had just entered the building.

"Yes, I think it is." Tressa confirmed, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, "I wonder what he's doing here."

"Well, whatever he's up to it has something to do with Arcane." Will stated grimly. "Whenever Graham is you can be sure Arcane isn't too far off."

"In that case I suggest we follow him." Suiting actions to words they discretely followed Graham up to the ticket counter, watching as he appeared to argue with the attendant. Finally the clerk picked up the phone and after a few minutes conversation, nodded and handed Graham a ticket.

Will and Tressa ducked out of sight as Graham turned away from the counter. Cautiously peeking around a corner they were just in time to watch Graham board an airplane at Gate 6.

"I wonder where he's going?" Tressa gazed after the plane, which was already beginning to taxi down the runway.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Will quickly walked over to the same ticker counter Graham had gone to. "Excuse me, Miss," he smiled engagingly. "Could you tell where the plane leaving from Gate 6 was bound to?"

"It is an international flight bound for Pearson Airport in Toronto." The woman answered politely.

"Thank you." Smiling politely he turned and hurried back to Tressa.

"Well," she asked impatiently, "What did she say?"

"He's gone to Toronto."

Tressa's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Why on earth is he going there?"

"Beats me," Will shrugged, "Perhaps Graham's come to his senses and left Arcane."

"Right, and hell just froze over." Sighing Tressa shook her head. "That can't be it, Graham would never leave Arcane."

"Well, whatever the reason is, I'm sure we'll here about it sooner or later. Until then, at least we had a bit of excitement waiting for Danny's plane to get in." Will dismissed the issue from his mind.

"True." Tressa tapped Will on the arm, a small smile taking any sting out of the words, "but I'm warning you, if your friend doesn't arrive soon I'm going home, and you can wait by yourself!"

Out on the runway the plane lifted gracefully into the air, making one sweeping turn before heading west. Inside Graham pulled the window shade down, shutting out the sight of his home disappearing behind him and settled down for the long flight and the uncertain future its conclusion would bring.

Dr. Arcane paced impatiently, glancing up at the clock with an ever deepening scowl on his face as the minutes ticked by. Fifteen minutes after completing some preliminary work on the new experiment he had become aware that Graham had not come back to clean up the mess. Five minutes after making that realization he had started pacing.

"Dammit, where is Graham?" Arcane glared up at the clock. With a growl of frustration he strode over to the intercom, stabbing at the button with more force then was necessary. "Send a maintenance crew down to clean up some broken glass," he ordered shortly. "Also have a security guard locate my assistant Graham and have him escorted to the laboratory." Arcane clicked off the connection without bothering to wait for a reply. Putting the issue temporarily out of his mind he resumed work on his experiment.

A security guard, dressed in the customary black and orange jumpsuit of Arcane Industries, conducted a systematic search of the Complex. Starting with the employee's rest areas he quickly eliminated all obvious places where the Doctor's chief assistant could be. He headed next for Graham's quarters, the last place on his list that needed to be checked. Opening the door and entering the security guard saw no sign of the man. Making a quick check of the bathroom he was just about to leave when he spotted an innocent looking envelope laying on the bed. Gingerly he picked it up by the corners, handling it as if it was a bomb, knowing instinctively what it contained.

The guard made his way slowly back to the laboratory, practically dragging his feet in his reluctance to turn the note over to Dr. Arcane. Taking a deep breath the man screwed up his courage for the confrontation with the Doctor.

Arcane looked up as the elevator doors opened, expecting to see Graham making his way into the laboratory and looking extremely contrite. Instead he was greeted by the extremely nervous face of one of his security guards. "Where is my assistant?" Crossing his arms Arcane tried to hang onto his temper.

"I, um, couldn't find him." The security guard managed to stammer, reaching out to hand Arcane the envelope. "I found this in Mr. Graham's room." with Dr. Arcane's attention focused on the note, the security guard made a quick exit from the room, sighing in relief once the elevators doors closed safely behind him.

Glancing up Arcane observed the security guard's quick retreat from the lab. "What is with everybody today?" Shaking his head in exasperation he turned his attention back to the envelope in his hands. Frowning at the implications it represented Arcane tore open the envelope and read the contents.

"Time to move on!" he read the words out loud in disbelief, "Time to move on!" repeating, his tone quickly dropped to sub-arctic temperatures. "No one leaves my employee without my permission ..." Arcane snarled, crumpling the note up and hurling it at the wall, "especially not my own bloody assistant!" Angrily he punched the intercom button, "I want whoever is on guard at the front gates brought down my lab. Immediately!"

Pacing the floor Arcane had to resist the temptation to hurl several nearby beakers at the wall. The more time passed the angrier he got. How dare Graham leave him like this! Losing the battle with impulse he flung the nearest beaker at the wall. The glass shattering just as the lift doors hissed open and a startled security guard stepped out. Flinching the man took an uncertain step backwards, paling at the furious expression on Dr. Arcane's face.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Arcane glared impatiently at the man.

"I, I'm Phil," swallowing nervously he rushed on, "I was working the front gate tonight. You wanted see me?"

"Ah, yes," stalking towards the security guard his expression became colder and more deadly with every step. "I want to know if my assistant Graham left the Complex tonight, and for your sake," Arcane crossed his arms, "he had better still be on the premises."

*Oh shit,* expression closely resembling that of a deer in headlights Phil took half a step backwards. "Um, well, you see ..." he slid another inch away from the Doctor, " ... um, Graham, well, he, he left the Complex an hour ago."

"I see," Arcane half turned away, tone casual, "... one more thing, " the Doctor turned back just as Phil breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that was the end.

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you normally this incompetent or is this simply a bad day?" voice still deceptively pleasant, Phil didn't hear the dangerous rage lurking under Arcane's tone.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Phil hastened to explain his actions, "Mr. Graham told me that you had sent him out on an important errand. I figured ... "

"You figured," Arcane interrupted, tramping down on the urge to just throttle the man now, "I don't pay you to figure!" he spat the word, "I pay you to keep guard at the front gates and ensure that no one ... *NO ONE* gets in or out without my explicit permission. Or was your job description so difficult to comprehend."

"No sir, sorry sir," Phil locked his hands together to prevent them from shaking, cursing Graham silently for getting him into this mess. He couldn't wait to settle the score with the man, "But he, he was very convincing and it was just Graham ..."

Arcane laughed without much humour, "well, 'just Graham' has seen fit to leave the Complex with my permission! As you were in charge of Front Gate Security tonight I believe that makes it your oversight." pointing at the terrified security guard the danger in his tone was no longer masked, "I suggest you start running now." Satisfied he watched as the man turned pale and bolted for the elevator, "Not that it will do you any good," strolling back over to the intercom he punched a button, "I want the security guard who just left my lab to be taken into custody and escorted down to section 8." Smiling grimly he severed the connection, "I will deal with you later – but first to locate my wayward assistant."

Thinking out loud, Arcane paced absently, "Where would you go Graham? You would have to know that I would find out about your absence fairly quickly. You'd also know that with all the knowledge floating around in your head, I would never let you go." He ignored the little voice that suggested there was another reason why he wasn't about to let Graham go. "Where would you go ... of course! The airport! Flying would be the fastest way of making it out of town!" Hurrying out of the lab he headed straight for the garage. Already certain he was right, the final proof came when he found Graham's personal vehicle to be missing. Grabbing the keys to the Rover Arcane lost no time in heading for the airport himself. Graham already had a forty-five minute head start. Time was not on his side.

Will and Tressa were talking quietly, still waiting, when Arcane stormed into the terminal. Will had never seen the man look so upset before. Still he couldn't resist calling out, "lose something Doc?" smirking at the flash of anger that crossed Arcane's face.

"Yes, actually I have, "Arcane admitted reluctantly, stepping in their direction, "It seems I've somehow misplaced my assistant Graham," forcing his anger down he tried to smile pleasantly, "Have either of you seen him by any chance?"

"We saw him boarding a plane for Toronto," Tressa felt compelled to offer, recognizing the emotion lurking in Arcane's eyes with a sense of shock. One she never would have guessed the man capable of.

"Looks like you're going to have to find another gopher," Will sneered.

"Just a simple misunderstanding," nodding his thanks to Tressa Arcane barely spared a glance at Will, "Now if you'll excuse me." Reaching a relatively quiet area outside he pulled out his celphone, dialing up an old acquaintance; one who had certain tracking skills he had need of.

"Charlie, Anton Arcane here. I need you to carry out a job for me, " Filling the man in on his missing assistant he laid out what he needed done, "I want you to follow him from the moment he disembarks at Toronto's Airport to his final destination. Ensure that he doesn't know you're watching and on NO account are you to approach him," he stressed, "Report back to me when you have something."

"No problemo, Doc," Charlie spoke casually, a hint of an Irish accent audible in his voice. "Consider the situation under control. Your assistant will never know I'm there."

"He had better not!" Arcane snapped, terminating the conversation. Thoughts of what he would do to Graham once he got the man back caused a brief malicious smile to cross his face.

It was late at night, the Complex almost deathly quiet as all those employed there quickly learned it was better to stay out of Dr. Arcane's way. Already there'd been several terminations, and the rumour mill had it they were of the permanent kind. Only Stella had had the courage to mention the missing Chief Assistant, and she'd been sent off in tears by Arcane's rather violent reaction. Thus it was how the Doctor found himself working all alone in the main lab with no disturbances to distract him from the missing presence that would normally be pestering him to have something to eat right about now.

"Damn you Graham," Arcane finally gave up on getting anything accomplished, resting his aching head on the counter. He was just debating whether to go to bed and try to get some sleep when the phone rang, startling him in its loudness.

"Do you want the bad news or the very bad news?" Charlie's voice questioned as soon as he picked up.

"Either or," Arcane spoke impatiently, "Just tell me where my assistant is!"

"Well, the bad news is that your assistant has already found new employment." Charlie paused, holding the phone slightly away from his ear in preparation for Arcane's reaction to his next tidbit. "The very bad news is that he's now employed by Dr. Woodrue."

"What!" Voice raising more than normal, Arcane had to breathe deeply a few times in order to compose himself. "I want you to keep an eye on him!" he finally ordered coldly, "Don't let him out of your sight." slamming down the phone, he found his hand actually shaking with barely repressed rage. Graham really had betrayed him! All those long hours of waiting a small part of him had remained convinced that Graham had to have a good reason for leaving without telling him. After all the man was devoted to him, often loyal to a fault ... a fact he'd come to rely on with such certainty that anything contrary to the notion had still come as a surprise. The situation was going to require careful handling, there was no way he intended to let Woodrue know how much his assistant's apparent betrayal had affected him, and yet there was equally no way that he could leave things as they were. No, he needed to get Graham back and he needed to be subtle about how he did it. Of course, once the man was safely back in his control there was nothing stopping him from letting Graham know exactly what the true definition of suffering was.

Slowly a plan started to form, the details coming together in a beautiful pattern that would allow him the revenge on Woodrue he always wanted and to get Graham to come to him at the same time. First he'd need to set the stage carefully, rushing was not an option. The stakes were too high.

Over the next few weeks Arcane built up his plan, allowing no one in on the secret meant he was working pretty much on his own. But as any other employee's he'd brought in showed no matter how incompetent he claimed Graham to be, at least the man understood him. He'd never before realized how much he'd come to depend on his ex-assistant's ability to anticipate his needs, to instinctively know what was required of him. Annoyingly enough, he even found himself missing the way Graham would get nervous and stumble over his words. Thankfully the dwelling on these thoughts was few and far between and by the end of the third week Phase II of the plan was ready to be set in motion.

Leaning back comfortably in his chair Arcane at last dialed the long distance number he'd waited so patiently for. When the line was picked up, he couldn't keep the thrill of anticipation totally out of his voice, "Hello, Jason" grinning at the momentarily shocked silence, "Anton Arcane here..."

"What do you want?" Woodrue rudely interrupted, "- or should I ask who?" he added snidely.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Jason," Arcane's voice dripped with innocent confusion, "And frankly I'm hurt that you would think I have an ulterior motive in calling you - one of my oldest friends."

"I'm impressed Anton. Kissing Sunderland's ass has really improved your sucking up skills." Woodrue mocked.

"I see that you're still lacking the ability to carry on a civil conversation," Arcane shot back, relaxing even further in his chair, "Don't worry, one of these days you'll get the knack of it."

"Well, as much as I love these little morale boosting chats with you, Anton," Woodrue's tone dripped with sarcasm, "Could you cut the bullshit and get to the point."

"Crude as always, Jason," Arcane sighed, "But far be it from me to ramble on about nothing..."

"Just get on with it, Anton!" Woodrue wearily broke in, "I don't have all day."

"I have a sudden need for your expertise in human cloning." Arcane could just picture the look on the man's face, betting that this was the last thing Jason was expecting. Some threat or demands to know why Graham left maybe, but not this.

"My help!" True to form, Woodrue sounded as incredulous as he'd ever heard him, "You want my help. You, Anton Arcane, the greatest genius the world has ever seen!" mocking, Woodrue laughed harshly "Excuse me while I have a heart attack."

"The world can only live in hope," Arcane muttered, half under his breath, "I could make it an order from General Sunderland if need be," he continued more loudly, "But I'm sure I don't need to do that...do I?" The threat of Sunderland's involvement enough to make Woodrue suddenly a lot more co-operate ... as expected.

"No! No need to bother the General," Jason interjected hastily, "I'll be happy to help you." The words sounded forced out.

"Jolly good, I'm sure the General will be pleased with your co-operation," Smugly the Doctor tapped a pen against his desk. "How soon can you get to Houma?"

"I can be there early tomorrow. Oh, and Anton," Jason added slyly, "before I go...you don't mind if I bring my new assistant, Graham, along do you?"

"Frankly, Jason, I couldn't care less. Graham means nothing to me. To tell the truth, he was never a very good assistant anyway." Arcane declared, striving to make his tone indifferent and keep the satisfaction out. Really, this was just too easy.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Woodrue grunted, apparently disappointed by Arcane's lack of reaction to his jibes.

"I'll have one of my drivers pick you up at the airport. Till then," Arcane hung up the phone, no longer able to contain his mirth, "Could you be any easier to manipulate, Jason?" Shaking his head, Arcane smiled in extreme anticipation, "Soon I'll know how you got Graham to work for you." *And make Graham regret the day he dared to betray me.*

The following morning, after having gotten little sleep, Arcane was pacing impatiently in the lab. He'd sent someone lackey to pickup his 'guest's over half-an-hour ago and the waiting was starting to get to him.

"Dr. Arcane," Stella's voice broke in over the intercom, "They've arrived."

"About bloody time!" Arcane ran one last glance around to ensure everything was in place, "Show them into the lab!" he ordered, placing himself by a microscope so he could convey the appearance of being busy. It wouldn't do to have Woodrue start wondering about certain things now.

At last he heard the sound of the lift doors hissing open. He paused carefully before turning to face his guests. It was a struggle not to stare at his assistant, already he was almost painfully aware of how right it felt to have the man back in his lab, and yet how wrong not to have him by his side. *Damn you, Graham!*

"Anton," Woodrue spoke first, glancing around the lab casually, "I must confess I'm feeling a little bit nostalgic. I remember the good old days when my lab resembled the dark ages," he grinned, "Fortunately my intellect was able to overcome all obstacles, eh Graham?" Woodrue poked Graham sharply in the ribs.

"Yes, Sir," Graham agreed meekly, glanced up quickly at Dr. Arcane; giving him a brief longing look that wasn't lost on Woodrue, before once again fixing his eyes on the floor.

"Nice to see you too, Jason." Arcane forced pleasant smile, hands clenching into fists behind his back, "As always, your charming personality leaves me cold."

"Enough chit chat, Anton," Brusquely Woodrue waved aside the insult. "Let's get to work. I'm dying to get back to civilization."

"I wish," Arcane muttered behind clenched teeth, "It's through that door, Jason," he gestured towards a steel door, a single small window set in the centre, "I think you'll be impressed."

"It takes a lot to impress me, Anton," Woodrue paused with his hand on the doorknob.

"You'll be so impressed, Jason, that you'll be blue with envy." Arcane darted a small look at Graham, who had moved closer to the door. Catching and holding his assistant's gaze, he could see regret reflected there for a brief second before Jason's voice broke in.

"That's green," Woodrue corrected, smirking knowingly as Arcane jerked his attention away from Graham.

"My mistake," Arcane inclined his head slightly in his ex-assistant's direction. Both men noting the point, and while Jason's smirk only increased, the Doctor was pleased to see a flash of hurt swim across Graham's eyes. "You first Jason," he continued, gesturing towards the door, "I'd like your honest opinion on my new endeavor."

"Honest? Anton," Woodrue laughed unpleasantly, "Really, you should know me better by now. However it's always polite to let the host go first."

"Polite, Jason!" Arcane laughed, eyes widening in mock surprise, "I didn't think that you even knew the word. But if you're too afraid to go first..." he let his voice trail off suggestively.

"I'm not afraid of anything you can come up with," Woodrue glared at Arcane before switching his gaze to Graham. "You, stay! Like a good little dog!" He spat, yanking the door open and stepping in, "Let's get this over with."

"As you wish, Jason," Arcane stepped closer as the heavy steel door banged shut, accompanied by the hiss of escaping gas.

"Hey, what the hell's going on?" Woodrue's shouted voice muffled as he banged angrily on the door.

"Looks like it was your mistake, as usual," Arcane watched as Jason's face turned blue from the effects of the gas before turning to his ex-assistant.

"What ... what are you doing?" Graham warily moved close enough to see through the window, stunned to see Woodrue collapsing on the floor.

"I'm surprised you let Woodrue talk to you like that Graham," Arcane stepped towards the man, who moved back until brought up short by the door, "I thought I was the only one you let talk down to you," leaning in, one hand resting next to the man's head, trapping him in place, he grinned maliciously as Graham tensed fearfully. "I guess that makes you ... easy."

"I ..." Graham swallowed, voice grinding to a halt as the Doctor's other hand pressed hard against his chest.

"Makes me wonder what else you let Woodrue do," Arcane pretended to ponder the matter, "Would you do anything for him ... like said you would for me," shifting even closer, so close he could feel the man trembling, "Did you really believe that I would just let you go?" he whispered softly, hauling a syringe out of his pocket and plunging it into Graham's arm in one swift moment.

Graham stared at Arcane in shock, a convulsive shudder going through his body before starting to collapse. Arcane caught him easily in his arms, "Really Graham," he hauled the unconscious man to a nearby bench, dropping him unceremoniously on it, "you should know me better than that by now." Smiling grimly Arcane quickly secured his ex-assistant with a set of crude restraints ... soon he'd have all the answers he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Graham regained consciousness slowly, drifting up through the layers of grey fog that filled his head. Blinking fuzzily, he tried to bring the room into better focus. Memory started to trickle back ... Arcane, drug ... with a surge of panic Graham tried to get to his feet, only to be stopped by something cold and hard and a surge of dizziness.

"Welcome back, Graham," Arcane strolled into his ex-assistant's line of view, smiling down at the man's dazed expression, "Enjoy your little nap?"

"Dr. Arcane...Sir?" Graham gasped fuzzily, mind still reeling with whatever the Doctor had shot him with, vision fading in and out.

"Sir?" Arcane echoed bitterly, mouth twisting in a derisive sneer, "I would have thought that you'd have dispensed with such formalities when you betrayed me."

Wisely Graham kept silent on that, "What do you want?" he asked hesitantly, shrinking back slightly as the Doctor stepped closer to him.

"I want a very simple thing," Arcane bent down, whispering silkily, "I want to find out every secret you've ever hidden from me, Graham."

"I ... I" Graham stuttered to a stop when Arcane abruptly moved away. His relief was short-lived, as he could see the man pick up a syringe that had been lying on a nearby table.

"Now, Graham," Arcane all but purred, "We can either do this the easy way ... or the hard way. I'd prefer the hard way myself, but if you choose to co-operate things will go better for you."

"I'd rather, I'd like, er, I'll co-operate, Sir." Graham swallowed, eyes irresistibly drawn to the needle in Arcane's hand.

"Good choice," the Doctor smiled, "Now this," he continued cheerfully, giving the syringe a couple of light taps to dislodge any air bubbles to the surface, "is sodium pentathol; and, as you well know, commonly referred to as truth serum. No need for any nasty drugs as long as you tell the truth."

Arcane laid the syringe down, and reached for the keys, "No sudden movements old chap," unlocking the cuffs, he watched Graham tentatively sit up, having to reach out a steadying hand to prevent him from falling over.

"Sorry," Graham muttered, clutching the Doctor's arm tightly, "Still dizzy."

"It'll pass," Arcane rolled up the sleeve on Graham's right arm, "This won't hurt much."

"Er, can't ... can't," Graham shivered as Arcane's hand remained paused, needle poised. He looked up pleadingly, "isn't there another way to, er, to inject the drug. I, I ... have a problem with needles."

"Graham," Arcane patted the man soothingly, "I really don't care." He jabbed the syringe in before his ex-assistant could react, amused when Graham tried to jerk out of his grasp before suppressing the move. "There, there it's all over now. You just come over here and sit in this nice comfy chair." Arcane pulled an unresisting Graham to his feet, sliding an arm around his back as the man swayed against him.

"I, ah, I ... don't feel good!" Graham groaned pitifully, words slurring together as he slumped even further into the Doctor's grasp.

"It'll all be over soon," Arcane said softly, sitting him down, "As soon as you tell me why you left." Crouching down he grasped Graham's hand, squeezing tightly, "And I'm not adverse to applying a lot of pain to help make you answer, so do try to tell the truth."

"You'd hurt me?" Voice small, he couldn't stop the misery from showing in his tone.

"I ..." Arcane did his best to ignore the plaintive blue eyes staring at him, and the annoying voice that insisted the answer was no, "You betrayed me Graham, not the other way around! I've killed for less the offense you've given me," hissing angrily, he ignoring his traitorous ex-assistant's gasp of pain as he twisted the hand in his grip.

The intrusive ringing of the phone caused him to let go of Graham's hand and straighten up abruptly. Swearing he grabbed the phone, "I thought I gave explicit orders not to be disturbed," Arcane snapped, "You had better have a bloody good reason for interrupting me."

"Dr. Arcane," Stella's voice answered, ignoring the Doctor's outburst, "its General Sunderland. He insists it's urgent that he talks to you."

"Bollocks," Arcane ran his hand impatiently through his hair, "Fine, tell him that I'll be there in a moment." Turning back to his ex-assistant, he considered the situation. Leaving Graham in his current state was not an option, the man had already run once, and that was not something he was willing to risk. There was only one solution quick enough to suit his needs. Reaching for a new syringe Arcane grabbed the bottle of sedative he had used before.

"No need to worry. This will just make you sleep for a while, Graham," Arcane meet the man's fearful gaze, "Now hold still." Sliding a hand around Graham's neck he squeezed slightly in warning before quickly injecting the drug.

"What ..." Graham's words slurred and stopped, body sliding further down in the chair as the drug took effect.

"Won't be gone long, old chap," Arcane murmured, reluctantly straightening up leaving the lab, heading for the privacy of his office.

As soon as the elevator hissed shut behind Arcane, Graham's eyes snapped open. Staring blankly his expression showed no signs of emotion or intelligence. Tilting his head slightly to the side, Graham gave the impression of listening to something that only he could hear. With an abrupt and awkward move he lurched out of the chair, swaying weakly once he gained his feet. The blank expression slowly faded, leaving Graham awake and aware of what he had to do. Making his shaky way to the elevator, he resting against the wall as his body threw off the lingering effects of the sedative.

Graham pulled himself upright slowly, straightening his clothing before the doors opened. Casually making his way off of the elevator, he strolled confidently to the exit. Once gaining the outside, his causal demeanor dropped, hiding behind some bushes he carefully worked his way around to the side of the complex, where security was at its most lax.

Back inside Arcane was talking to General Sunderland and trying to hold onto his patience, "I must admit that it is a surprise to hear from you, Sir," Arcane forced himself to sound pleasant.

"Dr. Arcane, I've been hearing some very disturbing information concerning your activities," the General said cryptically.

"I can assure you, Sir," Arcane strove to make his voice convey honesty and innocence; "my activities are nothing that should give you cause for anything other than total satisfaction."

"Don't play coy with me, Doctor," Sunderland warned, "Remember who you're talking to."

"Yes, Sir," Arcane replied mildly knuckles going white from the grip he had on the edge of the desk, "What was it that you wanted?"

"I've heard it on good authority that you have Dr. Woodrue locked up in your complex."

"Locked up?!" Arcane repeated, the unexpected suddenness of Sunderland's allegation helping him sound surprised, "Well, I wouldn't exactly say locked up. He can leave whenever he wants..." * ... as soon as he wakes up,* Arcane smiled grimly.

"Good, I eagerly await your report on this incident," Sunderland spoke dryly, "For now I have more pressing matters to attend to. Be certain that Dr. Woodrue arrives home safely. Oh, and Doctor Arcane..." The General added, voice becoming a little lighter and good-humoured. "I'm sure you won't mind that I'm having Gorley and Wilkes drive me down. We'll be at the complex within an hour. Good-day Doctor." he cut the connection before Arcane could get in a word of protest.

"Damn!" Arcane swore, "That's just what I bloody well needed right now. What in hell can be so serious to get him out of that lair of his?" The Doctor sighed in frustration, there had been something off about the whole conversation and now he had a visit to look forward to. Hurrying back to his lab, he was more determined than ever to get the truth out of Graham before the General arrived.

"Alright, Graham," Arcane strode out of the lift, "Let's get..." his voice trailed off, mouth practically falling open in shock upon seeing that his ex-assistant was nowhere to be found. "BLOODY HELL!" Arcane rushed to the intercom, punching the line for security, "Locate Graham and bring him to the lab. I want him alive and unharmed! * NO* accidents!" he barked the order, before collapsing in a chair and burying his head in his hands, "This is just not my day," he sighed.

Graham was almost home free when he heard the sirens go off in the complex and spotted the guards rush to take up position around the perimeter. With a calculating look around he dashed the last metres to the fence and started to climb. Unexpectedly someone grabbed his ankle and dragged him off the fence.

Graham hit the ground hard, quickly rolling over to stare up at a guard who had a gun trained on him. With a move too unexpected for the guard to block, Graham viciously kicked out at the man's ankle, sending him crashing to the ground. Seeing the opportunity to flee with his assailant now helpless, Graham jumped to his feet, pausing only to kick the guard once more - this time in the head - before continuing his ascent of the perimeter fencing. He landed lightly on his feet and took off running into the Swamp, gunshots echoing behind him.

Graham crashed through the Swamp, the sound of pursuit getting closer behind him. Glancing frantically over his shoulder, he tripped over an exposed root, sending him sprawling into a pool of water. Laying stunned for a moment, Graham climbed out of the pool, drenched to the skin. Before he could even take a step he found himself surrounded by six security guards, all with guns leveled at his heart.

"You're coming with us!" One of them ordered, gesturing with his gun for Graham to move in front of the team. With a hesitant step, not seeing any other options, Graham obeyed.

"*STOP*!" a gravelly voice commanded from behind. The men whirled around, and as one their eyes bulged in fear at the huge, angry, moss covered figure towering over them. "You bring violence into the Swamp. You do *NOT* have permission to do this," Alec intoned, stepping closer to the men, "Leave, now!"

"Well, don't just stand there," the man that had threatened Graham yelled, screwing up his courage, "Get him!"

Alec shook his head wearily as the security guards charged at him en mass, attempting to knock him down; Arcane obviously didn't hire his guards for their mental ability. Swinging his arms, Alec sent them crashing to the ground, where the Swamp wrapped vines around them, holding them firmly in place.

During all the confusion, Graham took the opportunity to sneak away from the security guards, heading towards the highway. Once there, instead of continuing the so far successful escape, he stood still, waiting. He made no move to hide, to run - eyes reflecting an inhuman blankness.

Back at the sight of the battle, all the security guards safely taken care of Alec searched around for Graham. Intending to find out once and for all what was going on. To find out why Graham had left Arcane's employ, when he would have guessed that nothing less than death would have forced the man from Arcane's side. And to find out why Arcane now required force to get his assistant back. Alec gave up with a sigh, unable to locate Graham anywhere nearby. Well whatever Arcane was up to, he was almost certain to find out eventually, hopefully without anymore violence.

Twenty minutes later a long, sleek, black limousine passed by where Graham was still waiting. He didn't move as it slid to a stop beside him, the back door opening. Without a moment hesitation or sign of fear, Graham took hold of the door and got in. The car started up again, driving off in the direction of Arcane's complex.

Back at the lab the Doctor was pacing, waiting for the guards to check in, furious that Graham had escaped from him and now he couldn't even get revenge on Woodrue. Arcane threw a beaker at the far wall in a sudden upsurge of anger, muttering darkly to himself, "This isn't over yet, Graham, not by any means. I'll find you again, once you return to Woodrue's side, like the loyal little assistant you are," mouth twisting in anger, denying the hurt that tried to rear its ugly head, he looked around for something else to throw.

"Dr. Arcane, Sir," Stella's voice interrupted, "The General is on his way down to the lab."

"Thank-you, Stella," Arcane replied sarcastically, setting a glass jar reluctantly back on the table, "You've made my day. Have Dr. Woodrue brought down as well!"

As the sound of the elevator descending became audible, Arcane pasted a false smile on his face. The doors slid open with a smooth hiss and the Doctor took a breath, ready to offer a greeting. His eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. The world was being treated to a rare phenomenon: Anton Arcane had been struck speechless!

"Hello, Sir," Graham spoke first, shifting uncomfortably in his damp clothes, offering up a nervous smile, "I ... I"

"I'll tell him," the General's harsh voice interrupted, "I'm very displeased, Doctor! This whole scenario took months to plan. Your interference has ruined it in a day."

"What scenario?" Arcane asked staring at Graham, who refused to meet his eyes, "I don't understand."

"You don't understand, Doctor, because I didn't want you to understand." the General lectured, "I planted your assistant in Dr. Woodrue's employ, for the specific purpose of gathering information for me."

"What!" Arcane interrupted, noting out of the corner of his eye that the General's two bodyguards moved closer.

"Need I spell it out for you?" Sunderland asked impatiently, "Apparently I do!" he continued sardonically when Arcane made to move to reply, "I sent Graham here, to spy on Dr. Woodrue, who, my sources reveal, has been conducting certain experiments without deigning to inform me."

"But why him?" Arcane asked, staring at his assistant, who in turn was staring at the floor looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Why!" the General repeated, "Because I needed someone loyal enough who I could rely on not to switch allegiances, but not so close, as Dr. Woodrue would never trust any of my direct employees ... at least not with these particular experiments. The fact that Dr. Woodrue's hatred would never pass up the opportunity to insult you by purloining your personal assistant also factored into the decision." the General's tone of voice became slow and deliberate, as though explaining to a child.

"Why didn't you inform me about your plan?" Arcane glanced warily at the General's two bodyguards, resisting the urge to throttle the conniving old man.

"I wasn't aware that I had to inform you of my every move, Doctor," the General glared, "But to put this to an end, I didn't tell you because I did not want you to ... what is the phrase ... spill the beans to Dr. Woodrue."

Arcane repressed his anger at the General's implication that he was untrustworthy, which of course was true, but beside the point. He opened his mouth to retort when the elevator doors opened again.

"Erm, Doctor Arcane?" Stella smiled reticently, noticing that both the General and Arcane seemed to be in foul moods and that poor Graham, who she'd always considered to be kind of cute, in a kicked puppy dog way, looked as if he wanted to sink through the floor. "Um," she pointed to her right, "You asked me to bring..."

"Never mind, Miss. I have better things to do than to die of old age in this elevator!" Jason Woodrue gently pushed Stella out of the way and sauntered into the lab as though he owned it. Stella just shrugged and hit the up button, wisely deciding that this wasn't the best place to be right now.

"My dear, dear Anton, your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired." Woodrue smirked, coming to an abrupt halt, staring at Graham, "I see that you and Graham have resolved your difficulties."

"Yes, we have, Jason," Arcane drawled, strolling over to Graham and sliding an arm around his shoulders. He felt oddly pleased when the man flinched almost imperceptibly, "You can leave now, so I can have my complex decontaminated."

"The sooner I leave this hole the better," Woodrue glared at Graham, "And leave this pathetic excuse for an assistant behind. You will pay for this!"

"Enough of this," the General's metallic voice interrupted, "Neither of you will do anything of the sort. You will both reserve your differences to your usual petty squabbling. Both of you are too useful for me to lose... for now. Recriminations for personal annoyances are not among your duties. I trust I'm making myself clear on that point?"

"Perfectly, General." Arcane held his contempt in check, not missing out on the subtle nuances of Sunderland's last statement, "I wouldn't dream of hurting my old friend here!"

"Right!" Jason mocked," You don't want me hurt ... you want me dead."

"Now, Jason, I believe the General wants us to make nice," Arcane extended a hand to the man. Considering that certain plans of the General's were ruined, winning first place in securing the General's good favor again seemed to be a priority.

"Nice!" Jason snorted, "To that!" he ignored Arcane's outstretched hand, seemingly unconcerned with heeding the General's last warning.

"I've wasted enough of my valuable time with you two. It's time that you and I left, Dr. Woodrue," the General declared, his chair gliding towards the elevator before Arcane even had time to form a reply to Woodrue's last taunt. "Come along." the General called from ahead.

With one last knowing smirk, Jason followed Sunderland out of the lab, leaving Arcane and Graham alone.

"Umm, Sir," Graham started nervously, shoulders hunching, "I'm really sorry that I had to lie to you and all. I didn't want to but..." his voice trailed off in a little sigh.

"I'll deal with you later," Arcane grasped Graham's arm, pulling the man closer, "and believe me, it will be painful. Right now, however, I have more important things to take care of."

"Yes, Sir," Graham swallowed, feeling slightly more relieved when Arcane moved away, "Ah, what's so important?"

"This," Arcane held up a small test tube filled with a clear liquid, "Woodrue's DNA."

"DNA!" Graham echoed in surprise, "What do you want with Woodrue's DNA?"

"Really, Graham, sometimes I wonder how you ever got through college. Have you no sense of vision?" Arcane sighed, turning his back to Graham, "Have you no idea how powerful a weapon DNA can be?"

He was still going on, words fading in and out as Graham's eyes glazed over. It was almost inhuman the way his expression drained of all emotion so quickly. One moment alive and animated ... the next cold and deadly.

Graham stared blankly into space, his right hand slowly pulling out a gun. He aimed it at Arcane's back, eyes closing for a minute. With a slight shake of his head, Graham opened his eyes, the glazed look fading, only to be replaced by the dawning horror of what he was about to do. His hand began to shake as he desperately tried to call out a warning to the Doctor, when without any notice, the glazed look once again returned to his eyes. Graham's hand stopped shaking and he slowly started to pull the trigger.

"I mean really, you have ...*what the*!" Arcane's voice trailed off in shock, turning around to see Graham pointing a gun at him. He looked into Graham's eyes having only a split second to note the cold and empty look, before diving behind a desk for cover as a bullet whistled past.

With a curse, Arcane pressed himself further behind the desk, "Now, Graham, my friend, can't we talk about this?" he called out calmly, the only answer was another bullet. The Doctor desperately looked around for something to defend himself with, spying his coat flung over a chair, where he remembered he'd been keeping his gun ever since certain incidents had proved that it was prudent to provide for his personal safely.

Arcane kept talking calmly as he inched his way towards the chair. A bullet smashed into the wall beside his head, as he made a dash for the coat, grabbing it and flinging himself behind a bench before Graham could get off another shot. He lay there panting, as the bullets continued to be fired. All of a sudden Arcane heard a repeated dry clicking and then ... silence. The sound of a gun hitting the floor was loud in the eerie quiet.

Arcane slowly stood up and walked over to where Graham stood staring at the floor, the gun by his feet. The Doctor kicked it out of reach; letting out the breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

Graham raised his head, staring blankly at the Doctor. He saw Arcane's mouth move, the words lost as he became aware of what he had to do next.

"Now, Graham. Just calm down. I won't hurt you. I just want to know..." Arcane spoke soothingly, as one would to a frightened animal. Failing to spot the slight movement of Graham's hand, as it reached backwards and behind for something. He was still talking as Graham's fingers locked around a tiny back up gun, hidden in his trouser belt.

Arcane remained unaware of the little gun until Graham began to bring it upwards, aiming it straight at his heart, hesitating only for a second before pulling the trigger.

In that second, Arcane dove to the side and brought up his own gun. Sheer survival instincts took over as he fired two shots, hitting Graham squarely in the chest, causing the man's own shot to go wild.

The gun fell from Graham's nerveless fingers as the blank look finally faded from his eyes. A flicker of sick realization swam across his face, staring briefly in accusation at his employer before his eyes glazed over again. Arcane could only stare, frozen in shock; the full impact of what he had just done hitting him. He dropped his own gun, watching stunned as Graham swayed, bright crimson blood bubbling from his mouth. Arcane dove forward, but he was too late. He could only watch in helpless horror as the only person in the world, aside from his wife, who had ever shown him any kind of unconditional caring, collapsed to the ground. Where he remained still, his blood already forming a spreading sea of red on the floor.

Arcane dropped to his knees, "Graham?" he whispered, desperately searching the man's wrist, neck, for a pulse. "Yes!" a relieved smile breaking out before his expression turned to one of sick panic as he felt the pulse begin to diminish in intensity. He forced himself to his feet, torn between not wanting to leave his assistant, and knowing that he had to get help. With a furious curse, he dived for the intercom, hitting the button so hard it almost broke.

"This is Arcane! I need medical assistance in the lab immediately! * IMMEDIATELY!*" Without wasting another second he hurried back to Graham, gathering the man in his arms, uncaring of the blood soaking into his clothes. "My God! What have I done?" he ran a blood-stained hand through his hair.

His face suddenly changed to an outraged grimace. "I've done bloody nothing, that's what. All I've done is save myself from your pathetic attempt on *MY* life!" he snarled. "Why, Graham? Why'd'you make me do it?! You, lying there, trying to make me feel guilty when it's you who are to blame for all of this! Didn't you think that I would protect myself, damn it? What made you think that I would roll over and die because you're the one pulling the sodding trigger?!"

A brief choked gasp from Graham brought Arcane back. "Hold on, Graham. Easy, old chap. Help's on the way," he pleaded, "just hold on..." Graham's eyes settled on his, closing, then fluttering open again. "Graham! Don't you do this to me!" Arcane snarled. Graham's blue eyes grew dimmer as his body seemed to relax. "*DAMN YOU, GRAHAM!* Don't you dare leave me, you little toad!" With a last exhalation of breath, Graham's eyes closed for the last and final time.

"No...no, I refuse to let this happen. Graham?! Graham, do you hear me?" Arcane called out to ears that could no longer hear. He hurtled for the intercom again, "Where are you, damn it! I need help, *NOW*! Bring the adrenaline and defibrillators!"

He staggered back to Graham's still form. "Graham!" he gasped, dropping to his knees and beginning cardiac massage. "Graham, please!" he was now panting heavily from exertion, perspiration trickling down his brow. "I know it wasn't you, Graham. You would never have done that," he pressed down firmly on Graham's heart, "I don't know what he did, but it wasn't you. I'll make him pay for this, Graham, I swear!" he pressed down again, harder this time. "If only I hadn't aimed there..." he hammered down one last time. He took a deep breath, time seeming to slow as he brought Graham's face to his own, trying vainly to force air into lifeless lungs.

Cold realization dawned, and he drew back, still cradling Graham's head in his hands. "If I'd just...If you'd only have..." he stopped, shutting his eyes wearily and swallowing hard. "No." he shook his head slowly, gently laying Graham back down on the floor. "No.." he repeated in a whisper.

It was quiet and peaceful deep within the cool greenness of the Swamp. Birds chirped merrily in the background, as the Swamp's languid thoughts suddenly sharpened. Its senses stretched out, feeling for the fleeting sensation that had disturbed it...*Pain*...The Swamp pulled back, retreating as a wave of incredible anguish washed over it.

"What's wrong?" Alec asked in concern, feeling the Swamp's distress. He closed his eyes, concentrating intently, attempting to locate the source of the disturbance...*What the*...his thoughts were cut off as the same wall of intense pain slammed into him. Alec's eyes snapped open, "Arcane!"

Arcane sat still for a moment, stunned by the rapid turn of events. With a strangled gasp he resumed trying to revive Graham, desperately forcing air into his lungs. "Come on, you bloody incompetent excuse for an assistant, *BREATH*!" he gasped between breaths.

The elevator doors opened and Stella, along with two other technicians, rushed in, carrying the defibrillator.

"What took you so long?!" Arcane snarled angrily, "What did you do? Stop for breakfast on the way down!"

"We..." Stella started to explain.

"Never mind that now! Just bring the defibrillator over here!" Stella rushed over the Doctor and handed him the machine. She stared, horrified, down at Graham, shocked by the amount of blood that was literally pooled around him.

"Oh, Graham!" she whispered, eyes filling with tears.

"Stella!" Arcane snapped, "Get the Adrenaline, grieve later!" he ripped open Graham's shirt, an audible groan coming from him at the sight of how much damage the bullets had caused. He grabbed the paddles and rubbed on the gel, impatiently waiting for the beep that signaler when it was charged. "Come on you bloody machine," he muttered. The defibrillator beeped and Arcane immediately pressed the paddles to Graham's chest, shocking his heart. Graham's body gave an involuntary arch with the force of the shock, before laying still once again. He desperately felt for a pulse...nothing. Stella wordlessly handed him the syringe filled with adrenaline. Arcane plunged it into Graham's heart without pause.

Graham's body convulsed once, a fine tremor running through his muscles before settling back into stillness. "Damn!" Arcane swore, applying the paddles again. Nothing happened, Graham remained still. "*DAMN YOU, DON'T YOU DARE DIE!* " Arcane shouted suddenly, shocking Stella out of her daze.

"Sir," she gently preventing him from shocking Graham again, "He's dead!"

"No! He can't be," Arcane argued, hammering down on the man's chest again, "I'm the greatest genius that ever lived and I say that he's not dead!"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Arcane," Stella repeated firmly, gently pulling her employer away from Graham's body, "But he is dead!"

Turning stricken eyes on Graham's still form, Arcane found the sight blurring as memories flashed through his mind. Memories of how Graham's face would light up from just a simple compliment from him; the way he always stammered or wrung his hands, often a sure sign that something had gone wrong. Of his often useless suggestions, only meant to help, always highly annoying. Memories of the way Graham had always stood by his side, always caring, always believing in him; even through the necessary ugliness Graham saw him inflict everyday. A wave of grief rose up within, so fierce it took his breath away.

Arcane forced the emotion away, pushing it to the back of his mind, "Yes, you're right," getting to his feet was a struggle, he suddenly felt extremely old, "Call Sheriff Andrews and tell him what happened," he at last ordered, turning his back he strode to the lift, "Oh, and Stella..." Arcane added calmly, with just a brief hesitation, "see that someone cleans up this mess!"

The doors closed, blocking Stella's astonished look from his view and allowing him to sag against the cool wall. With a grimace he noted the blood that stained his clothes and skin, Graham's blood. The grief hit him all over again, a blackness that pulled at him and left him shaking.

Gaining the privacy of his quarters, all Arcane wanted to do was curl up on the bed and pretend nothing had happened, that Graham was alive and everything was as it should be. Slamming his fist into the wall Arcane forced himself not to think, not to feel ... shedding his stained clothing he dumped them on his way to the bathroom; climbing into the shower he stood, eyes closed, underneath the warm soothing spray. Swirls of red chased down the drain, taking the last evidence of Graham from him ... if only the pain would disappear so easily, a pain he couldn't let himself feel. Not again.

A lifetime later Arcane stumbled out of the shower, the task of drying himself and dressing almost enough to make him give up and just go to sleep. But there were pressing matters that needed to be taken care of ... funeral to arrange, excuses to make, oh, and of course, revenge to plan. Making his way towards his office, Arcane found one of the tasks had come to him ... Sheriff Andrews was waiting not-so-patiently by the door.

"Sheriff Andrews," Arcane made a show of looking down at his watch, "You arrived quickly. I trust I didn't interrupt your session at the local donut store."

"Ah, there y'are, Arcane," Sheriff Andrews drawled, looking up from his study of the floor, "Gotta ask you a few questions."

"I don't pay you to ask me questions," Arcane summoned up enough energy to glare at the man, "Now leave me alone!"

"It's just routine paperwork that I gotta get out of the way," Sheriff Andrews blithely ignored the glare, persistently following Arcane into his office, "Will only take a minute."

"Just do what you normally do," Lip curling distastefully, Arcane sneered, "Make something up."

"No can do this time, Arcane. Like I said, just routine. Ain't nothin' to it. Just tell me what happened." he took out a notepad and pen poised he waited. From the look on his face, it was clear he wasn't budging without an answer.

"Very well," Arcane sat down carefully, forcing his voice to remain calm and unemotional, "My assistant, Graham, attempted to kill me. What occurred after was an act of pure self-defense on my part. I gave him every opportunity to lay down his weapon and talk. However he wouldn't listen to reason. When he ran out of ammunition, I approached - quite harmlessly, I might add - and just barely saw him reach for a hidden back-up gun." Arcane's voice cracked then, the image of Graham's still body flashing across his eyes, "I ... I had no choice but to shoot him." He was uncomfortably aware of just how much his tone had revealed, at how it sounded like he was choking back tears.

"Must've been one terrible experience," Sheriff Andrews couldn't quite wipe the smirk of his face, "Loyal, dependable Graham suddenly turnin' on you like that. Bet it was the last thing you expected."

"I will admit, this isn't the best day of my life," Arcane growled, standing up and glaring at the Sheriff, who suddenly seemed to realize how over the line he'd stepped, "Now if that's all ... I have more important matters to see to; like arranging a funeral service."

"Sure, Dr. Arcane." Andrews hastily backed out of the room, "I'll er, just see myself out." Not looking back he didn't pause until he was safely in his vehicle and halfway back to town. The rumour mill would be working overtime tonight.

"Let's get this over with," Arcane muttered, rifling through the filing cabinet as soon as he was sure the Sheriff had left completely. Graham's file, of course, was right at the back and somehow thinner than he remembered. Flipping through the pages forced the Doctor to realize just how sparse the information he had on Graham was ... no work history, no former living accommodations, and no personal information. It was if the man hadn't existed before he'd come here. Sunderland had done the hiring he remembered, back when the Complex was first built ... the information had to be somewhere else. The General had been too careful to hire anyone without proper references.

Picking up the phone he placed a call to Stella, "Stella," he began, when she finally answered, "I'm attempting to locate some personal information on Graham's, like parental information, however there seems to be a startling lack of paperwork in his folder. Do you know why?"

"No, Sir. Whatever information we have on Graham is in his personnel file," Stella sounded confused, "I can't understand why you can't find anything, I know he mentioned to me before that his brother was listed as next of kin."

"Interesting," With a sigh Arcane dismissed the issue for now, "I'll deal with that later. Right now I'd like you to inform the staff that Graham's funeral will be held at noon tomorrow."

"So soon?" Astonished Stella dared to question her boss, "Is that wise Sir?"

"I don't believe I hired you to question my decisions," Arcane snapped, "Just see that it's done."

"Yes, Doctor," Stella sighed.

Hanging up the phone Arcane sat back down, there were still many details that had to be taken care of before he could extract the revenge Woodrue so richly deserved.

"Hey, did you hear the news?" Will burst into the house, ignoring Tressa's mutter about lack of manners, "Arcane's assistant, Graham was killed tonight."

"What...!" Tressa's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I don't believe you."

"It's true," Will grabbed an apple of the table, "The weird part is that is it seems like Arcane shot him."

"I can't say I'm surprised Arcane would shoot someone," Tressa commented dryly, "But Graham?! I'd always gotten the impression they were inseparable."

"Apparently not anymore," Will shook his head, "I admit, I never expected this myself. Ah, well. I doubt that Graham's death will even bother Arcane." he headed for the door, "Anyway, I have to go now. Tressa? Oh, never mind," Will sighed faintly as Tressa made no sign of listening to him, "I'll see you later."

"Later," Tressa murmured as the door banged shut. Memory was reminding her of the brief glimpse of desperation and hurt she'd seen in Arcane's eyes when Graham had left. For a second she almost felt sorry for the man ... almost.

Stumbling over yet another root Will cursed out loud.

"You should be more careful," Alec spoke from behind, "The Swamp can dangerous at night."

"Alec," Will jumped, giving a highly embarrassing squeak of surprise, "I thought I told you not to sneak up on me like that."

Alec merely smiled, "What is it that you want Will?"

"Want? I can't just come for a visit? You know, see a friend" Will held a hand over his heart, "That really hurts Alec."

"You must have something important to tell me or you would never have ventured into the Swamp at night." Alec pointed out calmly, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Well, alright, so I do have something to tell you" Will grinned, "You are not going to believe this."

"Yes?"

"One of Arcane's employees died today," Will causally leaned against an old tree.

"Tragic that Arcane does not value human life," Alec shook his head sadly, "But why was that so urgent that you had to come at night to tell me?"

"Because," Will said slowly, stretching out the moment, "It was Graham who was killed, and by Arcane's own hand as well."

"What?!" Alec was truly shocked, "Arcane would never hurt Graham!"

"Kind of a moot point there, Alec. The guy is dead," Will shrugged his shoulders, "Now me, I'm betting it has something to do with Arcane shooting him twice in the chest."

"I find this hard to believe," Alec said gravely, "Of all the people for Arcane to turn on, Graham wouldn't have been even considered. There's something wrong here, Arcane must be up to something."

"Well, Arcane's having a funeral service for him tomorrow at noon," Will offered his last piece of information, "I. really have to go now, Alec. I'll see you later."

"Good-bye, Will." Alec waved farewell absently, pondering the situation. *I wonder if this has something to do with the sensation of pain I've been feeling?* Sinking back into the water he'd roused himself out of when Will had come crashing through, he set his mind to finding the source of pain. Sure now that it had something to do with Graham's death.


	3. Chapter 3

Shifting restlessly, sheets tangled around his legs Arcane was ready to give up on getting any sleep. Emotions he'd denied during the light of day resurfaced with a vengeance now his mind was resting. Graham's death shouldn't affect him this much, the man was just an assistant. So what if he was loyal, there were lots of other loyal employee's ... well, no. Arcane couldn't really fool himself on that account. His other employee's feared him, did what he told them because he signed their paychecks and for what he'd do if they disobeyed. For all his faults, Graham had been loyal because he'd actually cared about him. A rare event in his life, he was more used to people shouting death threats or cringing in his presence. Not that Graham didn't sometimes cringe, Arcane grinned nostalgically, it was ... his smile faded as his mind made the correction ... it had been an oddly enduring trait.

Dammit, that was it. There was no way he was going to lay in bed and think about ... there was no way he was going to grieve. Graham was an assistant. That was it. End of story. If sleep wasn't in the agenda, it would have to be work.

Pulling on a dressing gown, Arcane made his way down to the main lab. Usually, at this time, he'd find Graham working, late at night seemed to be the man's favourite work hours. Intent on his memories, wishing for that familiar figure to be waiting for him as expected, he wasn't surprised to see Graham's image before him ... it took several seconds for reality to intrude upon him.

"No," eyes wide, a small whisper escaped, Arcane's face drained of all colour, " ... it can't be. You're, you're ..."

"Dead, sir?" Graham smiled, looking amused as Arcane struggled to speak.

"I'm hallucinating," strangled, Arcane backed up a step as Graham got to his feet, "Yes, that's it. I'm just overtired. Stress from the day and all that."

"Or perhaps guilt," Graham carefully suggested, moving forward until Arcane was backed against a counter.

"Guilt," Arcane straightened up, no hallucination was going to talk to him like that, even if it was one he dearly wanted to believe in, "Don't be ridiculous. I have nothing to be guilty over."

"I thought killing me might inspire some guilt," his dead assistant pressed closer ... making Arcane all too aware of his - phantom- warmth.

His throat closed up and for a moment he couldn't speak, couldn't breath ... "It was self-defense. I, I had no choice ...I ..."

"Shh, now," Graham laid a gentle finger across his mouth, stroking his bottom lip in a caress that left him breathless for an entirely different reason. "I wouldn't hurt you, you know that." Vivid blue eyes seemed to stare into his mind, soothing, blocking out the pain, "I love you."

Soft lips settled briefly, then more firmly on his own, bringing more warmth and comfort than any other kiss he'd ever felt before. Graham's lips parted and with a small whimper of desperation Arcane deepened the kiss, clutching the man closer, sinking into the taste, the smell, the warmth that was so familiar, so perfect he never wanted to let go of this moment ...

... gasping Arcane struggled to free himself from the clinging grasp of tangled bed sheets. A hollow pain spreading cold numbness in place of heat when his grasping fingers encountered only cool linen instead of warm flesh. Closing his eyes he determinedly swept his mind clear of the dream - especially the meaning of the kiss. Fighting his way free from the bed Arcane stumbled into the bathroom, not bothering to hit the lights before turning on the shower. Stepping under the soothing spray, he could feel his thoughts settle, calmness flowing over his skin. Now he could face the day, face the trial he was sure Graham's funeral was going to be.

As if to mock yesterdays tragic events, the day had dawned bright and clear. Clear blue skies looked down onto the tranquil setting of grey gravestones and colourful flowers. Spectators gathered around the newest addition in the cemetery, the freshly dug soil fragrant in the cool air. Few of those there showed up from genuine regret, curiousity seemed to be the prevailing emotion. This was the first time Dr. Arcane had arranged a funeral for any of his employee's ... although the rumour mill had it there'd been many more dead then the official reports stated. Will and Tressa watched from the back as Arcane arrived on the scene and made his way to the front of the crowd.

Surveying those gathered Arcane fought to restrain his impulse to glare at every person who dared to pretend that Graham's death meant anything to them. He, however, couldn't keep the biting sarcasm out of his tone, "it's heartwarming to see all of Graham's 'friends'," pausing briefly, he observed several people shift uncomfortably, "have come to bid him goodbye. I know he would have been - touched - by everyone's presence. For myself, I have only one thing to say," Arcane clenched his hands behind his back, brutally shoving his emotions to the furthest corner of his mind. Where it kept this mornings dream company. "As an assistant Graham certainly wasn't the best - not even close. But Graham wasn't just my assistant, he was also my friend." Turning he threw the first handful of dirt on the gleaming casket, whispering quietly past the tightness in his throat, "I will avenge your death Graham. Woodrue will pay." Without another word, or a look backward Arcane strode towards his vehicle while the priest took his place to perform the final prayer.

"Nice speech, Doc," Will couldn't resist calling out as Arcane passed by, "Very touching, one'd almost think you cared."

"Yes, one would almost," Arcane barely paused in his path towards his car, leaving a confused Will behind him.

In the quiet greenness of the Swamp, the morning's early sunshine shone down on the water with a dappling pattern of light and dark. Slowly Alec stirred from the position he'd inhabited all night, "Yes, I sense it too ... the source of the emanations is from that building." Surging out of the water he nodded in agreement with the Swamp's whispered suggestion, "I'll go investigate immediately."

Traveling swiftly through the dense jungle of trees, Alec reached his destination in rapid time. The emanations of now searing agony were starting to take their toll on the sereneness of the Swamp and he was anxious to get answers to the mystery. Stopping on the edge of a clearing he stared at the odd building that stood there.

Obviously hastily constructed, it held an air of quiet shabbiness. If he didn't have the Swamp's senses to tell him otherwise Alec would have easily believed it was abandoned. The front door opened just as he started closer and he hurriedly stepped back out of sight. Luckily he hadn't been noticed by the two men that made their way outside. He furtively made his was nearer in hopes of overhearing something - anything that would give him a clue about the buildings purpose.

The man nearest to his position was short, with blonde hair and glasses. His companion almost the opposite with a clearly six foot frame, and dense black hair. About the only thing they had in common was their identical plain white lab coat.

"I hear we'll be moving out soon," the shorter man was saying. He dragged out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up with a sigh of relief.

"Yup, we just have a few loose ends that need to be tied up and then we're being shipped out." the taller man slapped at a mosquito. "And it won't be a moment too soon for me. Give me a dirty, noisy city anytime over all this nature crap."

His friend laughed, "it's not so bad Fred. Makes a nice change from rushhour traffic." He paused with a troubled frown, "do you know what's going to happen to the poor sap in the lab?"

"The boss will probably eliminate him now he's no longer needed." Fred replied, shrugging carelessly, "it's probably for the best anyway. You know his brain wave activity has been all but non-existent the past twenty-four hours. I don't know a medical procedure capable of allowing him to be any more than a mental vegetable."

"I know all that ... but ..."

"But what Cal? Would you want to live with the mental capacity of a two year old? Less even."

"It just doesn't seem right to kill him when he can't even defend himself. Couldn't we drop him off at -"

"NO!" Fred glared at his shorter friend, "Don't say and don't even think it. Our lives wouldn't be worth the mud on the bottom of your shoe if the Doctor even got wind it was in your mind. No," he gentled his tone, "trust me Cal, this is for the best."

"Alright," Cal conceded reluctantly, crushing out his cigarette, "You're right as usual. Let's at least get back and make him as comfortable as possible."

"If it'll make you feel better," Fred slung a arm across Cal's shoulders. "You really gotta learn not to care so much Cal, it'll make things go much easier." Their voices faded away as they moved out of range and back into the building.

"I'll have to get inside, find out who is in there," Alec looked around at the clearing in which the building stood. There was no chance of sneaking up there, he'd be spotted the moment he left the shelter of the trees. He would have to wait for dark in order to even chance getting closer. Still, the emanations that had so disturbed the Swamp were clearer and stronger here. Perhaps he could learn more about the source; the mysterious patient the two men had been discussing seemed a likely bet.

Concentrating, Alec tapped into the sensation deeper then he'd ever been able to achieve. Blocking the agony that felt all too real, for the first time he was able to pick up on a thread of desperation under the pain ... there was a name there, a refrain that kept repeating. If only he could make it out! Closing his eyes Alec focused intently, straining to ignore the fiery spikes of pain.

_Arcane ... Help!_

Wrought with anguish, and barely understandable, Alec was able to pick out the words before having to drop the connection. *Arcane,* he sighed, one hand pressing tiredly against his head, *I should have known you had to be involved in this in someway.* Sinking further into the shadows Alec struggled against what he knew he had to do, what nature demanded he do. There was no choice, he couldn't allow anyone to suffer such pain without helping ... even if it meant he had to ally himself to the one man who'd been the source of all the misery in his life. Reluctantly, but determined Alec headed back into the Swamp to confront Arcane.

Arcane was in his lab, staring dully at the wall. His latest experiment - a little something to ensure Woodrue got what was coming to him - sitting untouched in front of him. He was finding it hard to concentrate, mind straying to thoughts and images of Graham. He'd never admitted to Graham how much he'd ... counted on him. Angrily shoving upright, Arcane swept a row of drying beakers onto the floor. He wasn't going to do this, wasn't going to mourn his assistant. No one was going to have that power over him anymore.

"Dr. Arcane," Stella's voice over the intercom interrupted his silent rant.

"Is this going to become a habit," Arcane hit the 'talk' button, sarcasm thick in his tone, "or can I, **MAYBE**, manage to get my work done without being disturbed **SOMETIME THIS YEAR!**"

"The General wants to speak to you," Stella struggled to control her temper. While she usually wasn't prone to telling people off, Graham's death had shaken her normal calm serenity.

"What's that senile old twit want now?" Arcane closed his eyes wearily, this was the last thing he needed to deal with now. "Alright, Stella, tell him I'll be there in a moment," Leaving the lab he headed to his office, an cloying sense of deja-vu pervading the atmosphere as he settled in front on his desk.

"General, what can I do for you?"

"I'm simply calling to express my condolences on the loss of your personal assistant," Sunderland's even metallic tones showed no signs of his professed remorse.

"Thank you, Sir," Teeth gritted, knuckles turning white on the edge of his desk, he had to bite his tongue to stop the rage from spewing forth.

"Yes, it is especially tragic when loyal personnel betray your trust," As the accompanied text scrolled past the screen the faint nagging doubt that had been plaguing him from his first conversation with the General turned into a full fledged suspicion.

"Sir," Arcane pondered his choice of wording carefully, "I was away from the Complex yesterday. You didn't by any chance visit in that time? I've had several conflicting reports from security guards of you being seen."

"If I decide to visit Doctor," Sunderland's disdain came through clearly, "I would certainly call beforehand. Now, if that's all, I have several important matters to attend to."

"Of course, Sir," Arcane mumbled, mind momentarily stunned by the possibilities of what this could mean. If the General from yesterday wasn't the real General that would have to mean that Jason knew. No one else would have been able to pull off a stunt like that. But why?! What did it gain Woodrue. Access to his lab? Even Jason couldn't be naive enough to believe he'd allow that, no matter what Sunderland ordered. So something else then.

Tiredly Arcane pushed himself away from his desk, perhaps fresh air was needed to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Strolling along the perimeter fencing he mulled over the problem. What did Woodrue have to gain? Revenge was the only thing that occurred to him. Their game of one-upmanship the past few years had been in his favour. It would be like Jason to do all this solely to cause him grief. How did he convince Graham to go along with the farce then? Despite the last few weeks of betrayal he knew his assistant ... and the Graham he knew was incapable of conspiring to kill him, no matter the incentive. So, *it couldn't have been the Graham I know,* Arcane swallowed, almost not daring to believe what he was thinking. "He's alive," he breathed.

"Speaking to oneself is the first sign of madness," Alec's gravelly tones came from behind him, causing Arcane the spin around. "However in your case, perhaps it's the last."

"You," Arcane sighed, crossing his arms in annoyance, "don't you have a home to go to?"

"I had a home ... before you destroyed it," Alec growled, taking a threatening step towards the Doctor.

"Yes well," Arcane backed up, holding his hands up placating, "these things have a way of happening. So," he gestured towards the perimeter, "what brings you to my doorstep, as it were?"

"I'm here against my better judgment," Alec repressed the desire to just leave, "there is someone who needs your help."

"My help?" Arcane almost laughed, if he didn't know better he could have sworn the Jolly Green Giant looked disconcerted.

"As unbelievable as it sounds, yes." Holland shifted backwards, "You must follow me."

"I don't do house calls, Holland, perhaps you can find some other person for your little errand of mercy," Arcane waved a hand airily, "And now, if you'll excuse me, as lovely as chatting with you is, I have other matters to attend to."

"Matters more important than finding out why some unknown Doctor has constructed a building, hidden on the edge of the Swamp?" if possible Alec would have smirked as Arcane abruptly halted and turned back.

"What are you talking about?" Arcane glared, "What Doctor, what building?"

"I've seen it," Alec quickly re-counted the conversation he'd overheard, "Whoever is being imprisoned is sending out telepathic pleas for help. Pleas to you."

"Graham," Arcane abruptly had to blink back tears, the possibility his Graham might really be alive was suddenly a lot more probable, "it has to be Graham."

"Isn't Graham dead?" Scrutinizing Arcane closely Holland was slightly surprised at the open relief the man displayed.

"Come now, Holland," Arcane patted him on the arm, grinning, "you don't think I would actually kill Graham, my most loyal assistant, do you?"

"If it suited your purpose," Holland ignored the now glowering Doctor, "We must leave now. There's no time to lose."

"Why?" Arcane started back towards his Complex, "I need to plan, to gather the appropriate forces ..."

"There is no time for any of that," grabbing Arcane by the arm, Holland pulled the grumbling man behind him, "From the increasing amount of agony the Swamp has been perceiving, Graham doesn't have much longer to live."

"Why didn't you bloody well say so in the first place?" Pulling free Arcane strode ahead, calling back over his shoulder, "Well, come on now, what are you waiting for?"

Rolling his eyes Alec moved in front of Arcane, pointedly setting out in correct direction. Ignoring his enemy's muttering, which sounded unsurprisingly like insults he tramped on in silence.

"Well, it doesn't seem very impressive," critically Arcane surveyed the building that had helped cause him so much trouble over the weeks, "I don't spot any guards patrolling, although I do spy a rather large limousine attempting to hide behind some bushes."

"Five men left half an hour ago," Alec broke his communion with the Swamp, "but ..."

"Jolly good of them ... let's go." Arcane interrupted brusquely, stepping into the clearing. Only to be quickly hauled back by Holland, and not too gently either. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Graham is in there!"

"Look," Alec pointed to the door, which had cracked open to admit two heavily armed thugs.

Arcane backed further into the shadows at the sight of their vicious weapons. Opening his mouth, he quieted without saying a word when Holland held up his hand, "Listen."

"Are the charges set?" The question came almost too softly for them to hear. Swallowing dryly Arcane strained to hear the answer.

"Yup, she'll blow in ten minutes. Let's get out of here." Wasting no time the two men climbed into the waiting limo, pulling out onto a small dirt road it was mere moments later that silence once again settled into the clearing.

Arcane didn't even glance back at his companion, he had less than ten minutes to find Graham and get him out. Failure was not acceptable. Pulling at the door, he cursed as he found it locked, "Bloody marvelous! What kind of idiot sees fit to lock the door of a building set to explode!"

"Move aside," Pushing Arcane not-so-subtly out of the way, Alec concentrated for a brief moment, plant fiber straining as he set his strength to ripping the door off. With a reluctant shriek it yielded to the pressure upon it, without a word Alec threw it aside and strode into the darkened interior.

"Remind me not to make you angry when I'm within reach," Arcane muttered, staring at the mutilated door before stepping inside. The chill air was the first thing he noticed, then the faint odour of antiseptic. Dim red emergency lighting led the way past the first room, into a hallway that opened onto several living quarters and a washroom. Spying Holland pulling open a door at the end of the corridor Arcane made to join him when he noticed a door to his right.

It was cleverly hidden, being in the same colour of the walls with no doorknob. Frowning Arcane pushed against it, surprised when it swung open without any trouble, "Wait Holland, I think I've found something." Taking a deep breath he entered the room.

It was obviously a medical lab, equipment and monitors littering every spare inch. Everything was quiet except for the faint beep of a heart monitor, while reassuringly steady was altogether too slow. The still form in the centre of the room drew him forward, and Arcane haltingly moved forward. He was almost afraid to look, afraid it might not be Graham ...

... breathe escaping, Arcane had to bite of a curse of the sight of his assistant's bruised and beaten form. Metal electrodes were attached to bare skin that was covered in cuts and abrasions. A thin blanket and pale green hospital pants was the only covering. Ignoring the trembling of his hand Arcane touched his assistant, biting his lip and the how cold and clammy the man's flesh felt. This was not good.

"It appears as if Graham put up quite the fight," Holland commented, watching a stricken expression flit over Arcane's face.

"This is all my fault," Arcane whispered, almost too quietly to hear. Shaking himself he abruptly ripped the electrodes off, unattaching the IV he snapped at Holland, "well, don't just stand there, give me a hand with him."

Repressing his natural instincts to give this man as little help as possible, Alec picked Graham up. Carrying him carefully, he was momentarily distracted at the disturbing lack of any surface thoughts or emotions. It was like holding a corpse, only he could feel and hear a heartbeat. *Something is very wrong here!* Holding Graham securely Holland followed Arcane out of the building.

Running, they had nearly reached the surrounding trees when the world exploded behind them ... the shockwave pushed Alec off his feet, and it was only with a surprising agile dive that he was able to avoid crushing Graham under his weight.

Fire was spilling into the sky, black smoke roiling forward to dirty the clean air. Alec was sure it could be seen in Houma, he could feel the Swamp urging him to leave quickly. Most disturbing however, was even the sharp jar of hitting the ground, and the deafening roar of the explosion hadn't disturbed the death-like stillness of Arcane's assistant.

"That was too bloody close," Arcane staggered upright, ears ringing so much he almost couldn't hear his own voice, "Another moment and the world would have been deprived of my genius."

"The world would never be so lucky," Holland dryly commented, sparing a brief look at Arcane before picking Graham back up, "We need to leave this place, the risk of discovery is too great." Striding further into the Swamp, he ignored Arcane's automatic protest against 'not having to follow his orders.'

"Er, how is Graham doing?" Arcane asked, hurrying to catch up. Trying to mask the concern in his voice ... realizing he'd failed utterly when Holland actually shot him a look of sympathy.

"He's," Alec hesitated, normally he'd be blunt with the man ... something was terribly wrong with Graham ... but the unexpected emotion Arcane showed stopped him. Cruelty was not a trait he endorsed, even towards the one who'd shown him nothing but cruelty. "I'll know more when we stop," he finally compromised.

Arcane didn't protest, now that he had Graham back he found himself almost afraid of what damage he'd find. Whatever Woodrue had done to him couldn't have been good ... he had the feeling that would prove to be the understatement of the year. If any permanent injury was made to his assistant Jason would find his continued living an impossible thing to remain doing.

Presently, they came to a halt in front of a large tree, its branches and roots providing a cradle in which Holland gently laid Graham. Arcane held his breath, the very air felt still as silence descended in expectation of what was to come.

Laying his hand on Graham's forehead, Alec concentrated intently. Ignoring the first impressions of overwhelming darkness; an endless void where thought and emotion should be, he probed further into Graham's mind. It was with an abrupt and painful lurch that he broke through the void; only to crash into a maelstrom of agony and desolation. Alec tried to move forward into the confusion, hoping to find the cause of all the destruction. Memories and random thoughts tore past him, coiling around his senses; he was unprepared for the abrupt surge of rage and hate that sent him hurtling back into his own mind.

Reeling back from Graham's still form, Alec dimly became aware of Arcane shouting at him, "Dammit Holland! What the hell is going on?!"

"Stop shouting," Alec wearily straightened to his full height, throwing off the lingering effects from the severed connection, "I, along with the rest of Houma, can hear you."

"Well?" Impatiently Arcane glared, "What happened then? How is Graham? Why isn't he waking up?"

"His mind has retreated into a coma," Holland couldn't help but notice how Arcane's face paled at the word coma, "It's unlike anything I've ever seen before. He seems to see me as an intruder, a danger ... I'm unable to get close enough to even attempt to repair the damage. And if that damage isn't repaired soon, he will die," Alec had to look away from his stricken enemy, unsettled by the guilt he felt at his inability.

"No," Arcane backed away, shaking his head, "You've brought people back from the dead **dammit**. Don't you dare tell me you can't fix this!"

"I can't," Holland met Arcane's devastated gaze calmly, "there's nothing I can do. I'm sorry, Arcane, the damage is too great."

"If, if you could get close enough, could you repair the damage?" Arcane swallowed, the answer had to be yes. There was no way this was going to end like this.

"Yes, I believe so," Alec knew that look, Arcane had something up his sleeve, "I can't get close enough though, it's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible Holland, you of all people should know that by now," Arcane met Alec's eyes, "We need to get him back to my lab."

"You can't possibly expect me to voluntarily go to your lab," disbelief dripped from his tone.

"I expect you to help Graham," Arcane replied collectedly. Bending down by his assistant he gently pulled him into a sitting position. "There's no time to argue about this, Holland. Now get the bloody hell over here and help me!" he finally snapped in frustration as the overgrown plant remained unmoving.

"I will not be fooled by you Arcane, and I do not trust you," Alec stated firmly, backed by the Swamp's silent agreement. Too many incidents with this man had taught him well.

"For god's sake Holland!" Arcane gestured roughly, "this isn't about trust, this is about Graham! Dammit man, he'd dying! You can't just let that happen!"

"If there was anything I could do, I would," Alec sighed, "But I will not endanger myself for you."

"Fine!" Arcane pulled Graham closer, struggling to get to his feet under the man's dead weight, "I'll heal him myself. I will not let him die this time!" here Arcane's voice broke and for once he couldn't continue. Almost already he could feel defeat dragging him down past his normal total belief in his genius.

Holland shifted uncomfortably, his determination not to trust Arcane wavering. Graham, after all, was an innocent in this and it simply wasn't in his nature to allow anyone to suffer. And despite who he worked for, he liked Graham, admired his loyalty and devotion. "Arcane, wait," groaning inwardly at his own conscious, "I'll help you ... but if you double-cross me I swear you'll regret it."

"You have my word that no harm will come to either yourself or the Swamp," Arcane promised fervently, gently handing his assistant's limp body over to Holland, "Believe me, it's the person who's responsible for this atrocity I'm after."

"Alright, let's go, we don't have much time left," Alec pushed his doubts aside, his course was decided and only fate would determine if it was the right decision.


	4. Chapter 4

Moving quickly, Arcane had to struggle to keep up, and by the time they reached the Complex his breath was coming in rapid pants. It was with relief he led the way to the lifts, the journey down to his lab allowing him to regain control over his breathing. Keeping his thoughts firmly on what he had to do, he was able to ignore Graham's still and silent form.

Stepping out into the lab Arcane gestured for Holland to lay his assistant on a nearby table as he hurriedly retrieved a small silver case.

"Exactly what is it you think you can do for him," Alec asked, laying his passenger down carefully, the man's only movement coming from the slight cold shivers shaking his still form.

"I think I can reach him so that you can heal him," Arcane replied with a confidence he wasn't entirely sure he felt. Ignoring Hollands stare of disbelief he explained, "Joint studies led by a British-Canadian team of scientists have proven subjects in a deep coma respond to people and objects they are intimately acquainted with. Tests in remote regions with sparse populations and harsh conditions illustrates their theory beautifully," pausing briefly, he took a deep breath, "Isolated individuals naturally form deeper and stronger bonds with each other. Experimentation has shown that these people often develop a sort of mental resonance with each other." stopping, he was abruptly aware that he was going on a tad bit too enthusiastically. "Er, their theory also collaborates with what is known about certain regions of the brain. The part of the mind that controls the thin line between the conscious and sub-conscious is located right in the middle of a person's long term memories. Fascinating really..." Arcane raised an eyebrow, "if a trifle under developed."

"I'll agree, it's interesting," Alec nodded towards Graham, a faint suspicion already forming, "But what does it have to do with your assistant?"

"Well," Arcane couldn't resist a gloating pause, "I have designed and built a device to tap into and interact with that area of the brain. Essentially it allows a person to become part of another's consciousness. It was an attempt at reaching my wife but well ... I never had the opportunity to test it." Blinking away past memories, he focused in on the present problems. "It should allow me to reach the root of the damage ... from there you can access the area through me and heal him."

"I'm impressed," Holland reluctantly admitted, intrigued despite himself at the possibilities offered up by such a machine. "Why are you accessing Graham's mind, it would be simpler for me to heal directly."

"Really, Holland, you've tried before. Do you honestly believe that you won't be fighting every step of the way, and losing valuable time."

"And you won't," Alec resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I know you may find this hard to believe but Graham trusts me," Arcane glared, daring Holland to say anything, "I know my assistant. He will let me close enough."

"Alright, Arcane," Holland reluctantly agreed, "What is it you need me to do."

"Well, there is one little problem with the device," Arcane admitted, "Nothing what-so-ever to do with my design, of course," he hastened to add, ignoring Hollands muttered 'of course', "But it seems the power needed to sustain any kind of contact is too great for it to handle. It needs your unique abilities to boost its input so I can reach Graham."

"You want me to act as a battery?" Alec seriously considered telling Arcane what he could do with his device.

"Think of it more as ..." Arcane re-considered his words, "Well, yes actually. I do need you to act as a 'battery'." he grinned at Hollands disgruntled glare. "Shall we get started then?"

"Very well," Holland moved out of the way as Arcane hurried around, getting things ready.

"I've started the initiation sequence," Arcane indicated a console to his right, "Special electrodes must be placed on both Graham and myself. Then it's a simple matter of you pressing that silver button and standing back and boosting the input." Handing one set of disks to Holland he placed the others on his assistants temple, making a silent note to grab a blanket first chance he got ... Graham was colder than he'd like. It was obvious not much effort had been made to ensure his health.

Arcane wheeled another table close to his assistant, climbing up and holding still as Holland placed the electrodes in the exact same position on his temple. "Are you ready?" Alec paused to ask, stepping over to the console.

"I'm certainly not laying here for my health ... of course I'm bloody ready," Arcane snapped irritably, "Just get on with it." Certainly he wasn't going to admit to the slight twinge of apprehension that struck him. Everything would work, he designed it ... therefore nothing could go wrong!

Sighing, Alec pressed the button, frowning in concern as Graham's body immediately began to convulse, "his mind is trying to reject the connection," he shouted to Arcane, who showed the strain of trying to force the tentative connection. The Doctor slowly managed to drag his hand over to the other table, fingers just grazing the man's arm. At the touch, Graham's convulsions slowed and then stopped altogether as his mind gradually accepted another's presence.

"This had better work," Alec laid a hand on Graham's head, focusing his powers at strengthening the tenuous bond. Connecting to the Swamp he just hoped his energy remained strong enough to allow Arcane the chance to finish his task.

Eyes opening painfully, Arcane shook his head to clear the lingering dullness from his mind. The process was a trifle more painful then anticipated, still, details like that could be worked out later. This invention could prove very lucrative.

Looking around his surroundings, he was surprised to find he was in what was someone's backyard, complete with an ancient old climbing tree. The sun shone down on the tangled lawn, wild flowers growing in clumps, obviously gardening wasn't a concern wherever he was. A small white house provided the background, peeling paint and grungy windows adding to its decrepit appearance. The back door creaked open, three children piling out of the house in silence. It wasn't until they had gained the shade of the tree that Arcane heard them speak.

"Is the birds nest still there?" the smallest asked, curious brown eyes staring up at the branches.

"Let's see," red hair gleaming, the second child started climbing, swarming up the limbs with an ease that spoke of much practice.

The one who had asked followed quickly behind, looking down he called to the last boy, "Come on Teddy, its fun."

"He won't climb Ben," the first taunted, having now reached the top, "He's too much of a fraidy-cat."

"Am not," Teddy protested hotly, "I'll show you." At the child's voice Arcane started, taking a closer look he found himself staring into his assistant's familiar blue eyes.

"Teddy Graham?!" Arcane repeated, watching young Graham's progress up the tree, "No wonder you don't use your first name." smirking, he couldn't help muse on how entertaining it would be to call Graham Teddy from now on.

"See Alex," Graham smiled jubilantly up at his brother, "I can do it. I'm not ..." He was interrupted by a loud bellow.

"If I catch you kids in that tree again, I'll take the belt to lot of ye!" the snarling voice shouted, the sound growing ominously closer.

"It's father," Ben whimpered, small body trembling.

"Quick," Alex started down as Graham lowered their youngest brother to the ground, "We have to hide." Smiling reassuringly at Ben, Graham wasn't careful where he put his feet. Arcane could see what was about to happen, his warning shout was unheard as the thin limb cracked and sent his assistant crashing painfully to the grass.

"Teddy," Alex jumped the last few feet, landing near, "Are you okay?" he gasped, looking fearfully up at the house, red hair standing out in stark relief against his white face.

"I think I broke my ankle," Graham bit his lip against the pain. He gestured for his brothers to move away, "You two hide, quick ... there isn't any time."

"We can't leave you," Ben whimpered, clinging to Alex's hand, "You can make it Teddy, I'll help you."

"I can't," Graham smiled bravely through a veil of unshed tears, "I'll be okay. Go with Alex and hide." Meeting his brother's eyes he silently pleaded for him to do what he said.

Alex nodded reluctantly, they'd both made a promise to protect Ben, he couldn't break that. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled his brother away, "Teddy's right Ben, we can't all get caught. There'd be no one to look after mom."

Ben stopped struggling, allowing himself to be dragged behind the safety of several nearby bushes. Crouching down, they waited fearfully for their father.

Still muttering obscenities, a tall man burst from around the corner. Arcane, who had moved to stand next to the young version of his assistant, grimaced at his first sight. "What a brute," he glared disdainfully at the man's filthy appearance. Grease and food stains covered his dingy shirt, and what was left of his stringy black hair was slicked down to his head. A half empty vodka bottle was clutched in his hand. Whoever Graham learned hygiene from, it certainly wasn't this slob, Arcane's mouth curled in disgust, watching as the man strode over to his assistant.

"There you are you little maggot," the man spate vehemently, towering over his much smaller son, who futilely cowered against the tree, "Where's the rest of your faggot brothers? Off playing with each other?"

"N ..not here, th .. they - they're ..." His father viciously backhanded him, choking off his words.

"I warned you about that fucking stuttering," the man yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. He callously yanked his son to his feet, unheeding of Graham's short scream as his weight came down on his broken ankle. Arcane stepped forward, trying to grab his assistant's other arm, anything to get him away from this monster, but his hand went through and the man continued to spew foul words as he dragged Graham behind him. "Don't be such a wimp. I'll teach you to be a real man, you little prick." Graham struggled to keep up, biting his lip until it bled.

Arcane let out the breath he'd been unaware he was holding, *I never knew,* dazed he stumbled over the broken tree branch, *all this time and I never knew. How could you keep something like this from me, Graham?* The more haunting question was how could he have not known. Looking back, the signs of previous abuse in his assistant was obvious to see. Signs he'd either ignored or dismissed, secure in the knowledge that there was nothing he didn't know about Graham. These thoughts served to distract his mind from any unpleasant associations it wanted to focus on. His attention was scattered as his surroundings gave an abrupt lurch, time slipping past in seconds as the backyard was replaced by another scene.

A small gathering stood clustered around a small coffin, and with a sickening flash Arcane knew what must have happened. The day was dark and overcast, the threat of rain fragrant in the air. Graham and his red-headed brother stood in front of a delicate and beautiful woman, their father possessively holding onto her waist.

"We are gathered here today to honour the memory of our missing loved ones," a priest stepped forward, nodding to the group, "To mourn the passing of such a young soul is not an easy task. Ten year old Benton Graham now rests in peace in the loving embrace of our Lord," the priest smiled encouragingly at Graham, "Theodore, I believe you wanted to say a few words."

Glancing up at his mother Graham hesitantly stepped forward, "Ben was more than just my brother, he was one of my bestest friends. I know he's in peace, and I'm happy for him," tears ran down his face, and he hastily scrubbed a hand over his face, "But, but I'll miss you. I love you, Ben."

Arcane swallowed the unnatural impulse to comfort this child, his assistant who'd already seen death at such a young age. A death that happened by his own father's hand if he was any judge.

With another gut-churning wrench the scene in front him shifted once again, colours blurring into a nauseating kaleidoscope. Stomach heaving he slowly opened his eyes, looking around in puzzlement. *What the hell am I doing in a bathroom? This had better not be a 'fun-filled' memory involving Graham and the shower.* The door was pushed open quickly, and then shut again.

"It's going to be okay, Teddy," his mother soothed, carefully holding his hand up she reached for the medicine cabinet and grabbed the first aid kit.

Graham was whimpering softly, holding himself carefully and trying not to look at all the blood that was still pouring from the wound. Wetting a face cloth, his mother knelt down by him.

"I need to clean the wound, Ted, hold still. It'll all be over soon," gently she ran the cloth over his hand, cleaning away the blood, revealing a jagged wound.

Arcane winced, that must have hurt a lot. Anger raged through him at the sight, Graham's muffled cries getting to him more than he would like. He could kill the man that did this to his assistant, this child ... fist slamming onto the bathroom counter he watched in impotent rage as Graham's mother wrapped a clean white bandage around the wound.

"There all done," she smiled bravely at her son, who looked back with such a haunted expression in his eyes. How could she have let this happen. Wiping away his tears, she comforted him as much as possible.

"Why," Graham asked plaintively, blinking away tears, "Why does he do this?"

"Oh, Teddy," she pulled him into a hug, rocking him back and forth, "He's a broken man, honey. He isn't even aware of what he does," she whispered, pushing a copper strand of hair behind her ear and attempting to explain why his father had deliberately cut his twelve year old's hand with a broken vodka bottle. "He used to be a physicist, brilliant beyond his time. There was lab accident, someone died. That's when he started drinking." she choked back a sob, "He wasn't always like this, Ted. He loved us once. And I will always love you, remember that."

"I'll remember," Graham whispered, cuddling into his mother's arms he sleepily closed his eyes.

"I want you to promise me something now Ted," she had to shake him lightly to gain his attention, "I want you to promise that you won't ever interfere again, and that you won't let Alex interfere either. I couldn't bear it if you got hurt because of me again." she clung tighter to her eldest son.

"I can't mom," Graham patted her on the back, smiling gently, "Me and Alex, we have to protect you."

"I can protect myself," she kissed him lightly in the forehead, "You let me worry about your father."

"Can't," Graham whispered, snuggling back into his mother's embrace. He started to slip into an exhausted sleep, warm and safe, "Love you. Have to protect. That's the way it works," the words slurred together as unconsciousness claimed him.

"Oh Ted," she cried, cradling her son closer, "Oh my baby, what have I done. How could I let this happen?!"

The scene faded with a gentle breeze, and Arcane was startled to feel moisture on his face. Scrubbing a hand across his cheeks he furiously scowled, *I am not crying! I am not!* Blinking rapidly he looked around his new surroundings, anything to get his mind off of the startling insight he'd just received into Graham's mind. There was something there, a fact that his subconscious was screaming at him to recognize and deal with. Time was not on his side here, however, he'd have to think on it later.

He was in a dingy old room, dust covering just about every surface and empty McDonald's containers and vodka bottles littered the floor. Sudden shouting from the hallway attracted his attention and with no small amount of trepidation he moved towards the noise. Graham's mother stood defiantly near the door, her two remaining sons clutched close. Suitcases stood by her feet. Her husband was pointing a gun at her, shouting drunkenly.

"What do you think you're doing bitch," he swayed, glaring spitefully at his wife.

"Please, Anton," she pleaded desperately, pushing Alex and Teddy further behind her, "You don't need us ... just let us go." Arcane's eyes widened at hearing the man's name, that coincidence was almost as disturbing as the scene unfolding in front of him.

"Never YOU WHORE! Fucking ungrateful BITCH!" screaming in rage, his face reddened dangerously. "After all I've done for you and those BASTARD kids YOU dare to try and leave!" his black eyes reflected unreasoning madness, finger twitching on the trigger guard.

"All you've done!?" snorting, she found herself glaring back, "All you've done is beat and torture us since that horrible accident. I may have loved you one Anton Graham, but no more!" blinking back tears she stood resolute in the face of her husband's fury. "We are leaving, and you can't stop us."

"**You'll never leave me!**" two shots rang out, everyone froze in shock for a long moment until Graham's mother stumbled, hands pressing against her stomach. Time unfroze with a crack as she slipped and fell, collapsing onto the filthy floor, blood staining the wood red. Her eyes settled on Arcane, a small smile gracing her lips as she breathed her last.

For a moment Arcane could have sworn the woman had seen him, her eyes so alike Graham's that it was as if he was staring into his assistant's dead eyes all over again. He had to look away then.

With a wild cry young Graham flew at his father, pounding on him with small fists, "YOU KILLED HER!" screaming, tears streaming down he didn't see the fist coming towards him ... stumbling back from the blow he fell down near his mother.

"Listen closely you two," his father hissed, stepping forward, ignoring the body of his wife, "If you breath a FUCKING word of this, I will track you down wherever you are and **KILL** you!" Reaching over he grabbed a white-faced Alex by the arm, pulling his son towards the basement, "Stay here until I come back!" Stomping out, he left his eldest son alone with his mother's corpse.

"Come back mommy," Graham sobbed, clutching her bloody hand, "Please mommy, I promise to be good so daddy never hurts you again!" rocking back and forth he pleaded in vain, violent shudders wracking his small frame, "Please mommy, please!"

The view mercifully ended before Arcane had to watch the child's grief anymore. Even his hard-fought aura of indifference was shaken by the agony and torment Graham must have suffered growing up.

All that was left was a overwhelming blackness, so cold it was like standing in the middle of a ice storm. This then must be the centre of the damage, this place that was so stripped of all warmth and life he despaired of ever finding his assistant.

Low sobbing reached his ears, a howling wind striking up as soon as he started towards the sound. Struggling against the piercing air Arcane fought his way nearer, and nearer, stumbling over a crouched figure at the same time the wind died down.

"Graham?" Arcane whispered, having to grab a hold of the figure to prevent the man from bolting.

"Please, please don't hurt me," Graham whimpered, curling in on himself, "I promise to be good." his throat closed up, aching with the urge to continue pleading. If they knew how afraid he was they'd just hurt him more.

"Graham, it's me," Arcane pulled his assistant closer, appalled at how terrified the man was, "Shh, now ... no one is going to hurt you anymore."

"No, no," Graham didn't dare open his eyes, didn't dare believe ... it was all a trick, "You're not real!"

"I am real Graham," Arcane insisted gently, soothing stroking the man's hair, "I came for you. Nothing is going to hurt you now."

"Don't believe, don't believe," repeating desperately Graham blocked his ears, he'd thought he was safe in the darkness, he'd been alone for so long.

"I am **bloody** real!" Arcane finally snapped, gentle tone gone as he fell back into his old pattern of dealing with his assistant. It was only when Graham whimpered fearfully and tried to shrink away that he was aware of what he sounded like ... of who he sounded like. Biting his knuckle, ignoring the tightness in his throat, "I am here Graham. You don't have to believe me, you just need to hold on. Holland is going to heal you and everything will be okay again. I promise you."

"Doctor?" hardly daring to breath Graham tentatively reached out, almost sobbing in relief when the comforting arms holding him didn't disappear like they had so many times before.

"I'm here, Graham, I'm here," he was nearly knocked backwards when his assistant flung himself at him, hanging on fiercely. "It's okay now," keeping up a stream of soothing words Arcane just hoped Holland had managed to follow him this far ... and that it wasn't too late. That this wasn't his last chance to have Graham by his side again.

With a violent wrench the darkness was split apart, breaking up into large pieces that flew up around them. Arcane frantically tried to maintain his grip on Graham, but something was pulling them apart, forcing him to let go no matter how hard he fought ...

... and then he was gasping for breath, staring up at the ceiling of his lab in one surreal moment of not knowing what world he was in. Striving to get to his feet Arcane staggered to Graham's side.

"He's going into cardiac arrest," Holland didn't even spare him a glance, almost drained it took all his energy to try and summon up enough healing power to prevent what was happening.

"No," Arcane whispered, grabbing the man's nearest hand, "Come on Graham, you have to try."

It was several long moments before Alec stepped back, meeting Arcane's worried gaze with a faint smile. "He's going to be fine."

Arcane sagged against the table, struggling to force back the wave of relief and simple happiness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Dr. Arcane?" Graham's voice came out weak and rough, "What?"

"It's okay, Graham," Arcane straightened up, pinning on his mask of casual indifference he spoke collectedly "You just rest for now." Turning he observed Holland watching him carefully. Too carefully. With a glare he remarked coldly, "You can leave now Holland. I won't be requiring your services anymore."

Returning the glare, but not bothering with a reply Alec headed for the elevator. He'd done what he'd come for, Graham was healed and back where he belonged. If nothing else that was enough of a thank you. Still he couldn't help but wonder why he'd ever bothered to assist his enemy. Catching one last look as the elevator doors slid shut he saw Arcane almost tenderly help Graham to sit up. A peaceful smile graced his face as he felt the Swamp's soft agreement. That was why ... to defeat the darkness, if only for a little while.


	5. Chapter 5

Graham shivered, crossing his arms as the chill in the room became more pronounced. Was it only his imagination or did it appear to be getting darker as well. Closing his eyes he struggled to get a grip on himself, Dr. Arcane had only been gone a few minutes, muttering something about making sure Holland actually left the Complex. And while it gave him the much needed time in which to compose himself, his employer was sure to have some questions about everything that had happened, he found himself almost panicked at being left alone. It was a vain hope to wish the questioning could be put off anyway. He was so tired, cold and hungry, his head hurt and he *knew* it wouldn't take much to push him into some sort of breakdown ... a warm hand touched his shoulder, reacting instinctively, Graham pushed away from the presence, bolting to his feet. Only to sway and almost fall if Arcane hadn't caught a hold of his arms.

"Calm down Graham," Arcane tightened his grip under the man's almost dead weight.

"Sorry, Sir," it took an effort of will to pull away from those comforting arms, to settle back down on the table before he really did faint and make an even more total fool of himself.

"It's okay, Graham, you have been through a rather trying experience;" Arcane settled a blanket around the man's shoulders, tucking it in close. "However, we still need to talk."

"What, what do you want to talk about?" as if he couldn't guess.

"How about, why you left my employ for that of Woodrue's?" Despite his best efforts, his tone dropped viciously.

Graham huddled closer into the blanket, determinedly staring anywhere but at the Doctor. "Woodrue said he would," his fingers clenched on the thick material, "that he would tell, tell my fa .. father …" here his voice trailed off, unable to even speak aloud the thing he had most feared for as long as he could remember.

"It's alright Graham," rare sympathy showed on Arcane's face as he moved closer, laying a reassuring on the man's shoulder. "I know about your father and what he did to …"

"NO! You don't" Graham interrupted fiercely, surging to his feet, "You don't know anything, not about what happened after he murdered my mother … what he did to us, what we had to do just to survive – nothing!" voice thickening, Graham could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He was seconds away from a humiliating breakdown, something that hadn't happened since he'd escaped from his old life.

Arcane grabbed his assistant firmly, unnerved by the hysterical outbreak, he'd never seen Graham lose his composure so completely. Pushing the man back on the table he was thankful that at least Graham had quieted down, although the man's blank stare and trembling was almost as unsettling as the violent movements and ranting.

"Graham?" quietly he tried to gain his assistant's attention, "Look at me Graham." With no reaction he grasped the man's jaw, forcing him to look, "You're safe now Graham. Nothing bad is going to happen anymore, your father has no power to hurt you anymore." *Not without going through me first* he swore silently, rage still burning through him at the thought of all Graham must have suffered as a child. To see one's own mother and brother murdered was something he didn't want to imagine.

"It's not me he can hurt," Graham at last whispered, strangely calmed by the Doctor's fierce gaze, "It's my brother Alex."

Arcane grabbed the fallen blanket, settling it back around his assistant, "Why don't you start at the beginning Graham."

Nodding silently Graham started speaking, "I knew Alex and I couldn't stay after what happened. He would have killed us, as surely as he killed Mom and Ben." He closed his eyes, forcing the memories back to where they belonged, "So, I, I took my brother and ran away. I worked any job I could get; lots of people wouldn't hire me as I was so young. Still, eventually we had enough money to get by; I saved to get Alex in college and even managed to get in on a scholarship myself. It was a new life, a new start and a chance to finally be happy. Alex even married five years ago; they have a new, beautiful baby girl." Opening his eyes, he gazed pleadingly at his employer, "Sir, you must understand … Woodrue didn't threaten me, he threatened to tell my father where Alex lived if I, I didn't come to him. I couldn't let that happen. My father hated Alex because he was just like mom … he would've destroyed Alex's life, his family. I, I had to stop that from happening – no matter what the cost!" Graham's voice was husky from the strain.

"You could have told me Graham," Arcane struggled to keep his voice soothing, and not accusatory, "I would have dealt with Woodrue before he was able to cause any trouble."

"I know that, Sir. But, but you don't know my father – he would've done anything to hurt Alex. I, I just couldn't take that chance – not with my brother's life, with his family's life."

"Very well, Graham, I do understand your decision, if not agree with it. It's not important anymore," Arcane shifted closer, "What is important is how Woodrue knew about your father and brother. When I - your *employer* – didn't even know."

"Um, my, my father kinda used to w .. work for Woodrue," Stumbling over his words, Graham winced, waiting for the explosion he was sure to come. The Doctor wouldn't be so forgiving over this fact.

"Your father used to work for Woodrue," Arcane repeated with barely restrained calm, ever fiber of his being insisting he yell at Graham for ever having dared to keep this from him, "-and you never thought to … perhaps *mention* this little fact to me!"

"I, I only found out once I arrived in Toronto, Dr. Arcane," Graham cried desperately, "Please, you gotta believe me!"

"Alright, Graham, breath," he laid a hand briefly on the man's shoulder, "I believe you. It's okay. Think now, how could Woodrue have found out about your brother?"

"I listed Alex as my next of kin just last month. He, he insisted in case something happened and he was needed. His address would be in my personnel file."

"It's not there anymore," Arcane informed his assistant, pleased when the man seemed to make the connection on exactly what that piece of information meant. "It appears as if we have a spy in our midst Graham, one who has quite the eye for opportunities," Arcane glared into space, *that's twice damned now Woodrue. *First my assistant and now this;* "Alright Graham, forgetting that for now I want you to tell me everything that happened once you landed in Toronto."

"I was taken to Woodrue's home in the city. I..I remember walking into the entrance and seeing Woodrue there, smirking at me, before I was hit from behind," Graham's brow furrowed in an attempt to remember what happened, "The next thing I was aware of was waking up, strapped down to a table. Woodrue appeared as soon as I was awake...I think he was waiting for me to wake up." Graham paused in his narration, struggling to clearly remember something he'd rather forget, "He started to brag about how he was going to use me to kill you, and how you wouldn't know anything about it until it was too late. I remember telling Woodrue that I would never help him kill you, but he just laughed at me and said that I didn't have a choice," his breathing became ragged as he got caught up in the past, "I think I must have passed out again or something, because when I became aware again, I could feel something cold and hard attached to my head. I..I struggled to get free, but the straps were too strong." Graham grimaced, "I heard Woodrue laughing in the background, saying that Arcane wouldn't know what hit him. Then before I could even draw a breath, I felt something invade my mind. It..it felt like my brain belonged to someone else. I could hear and sense certain things, but it wasn't me experiencing those sensations." Heaving a sigh, Graham finally looked up at Dr. Arcane, "I..I don't know how else to explain it Sir," he shrugged helplessly.

"That's alright Graham. I'm beginning to understand exactly what ensued," Arcane pondered, an intensely thoughtful look on his face, "Tell me, do you remember anything else? Any conversations or feelings?"

"I seem to remember talking with you..." Graham stopped in confusion,"-but that doesn't make sense, I couldn't have been talking to you."

"Do you remember anything else?" Arcane asked, leaning closer in anticipation.

"I remember pointing a g..gun at you," Graham shook his head in denial, "I must have been dreaming." he stopped, shivering even through the warmth of the blanket, "I..I tried to stop myself, but I..I couldn't - the gun fired," Graham pushed away the horrible memory, "The next thing I remember is this tearing pain in my chest. I..I couldn't breathe," he paused in horror, as a sudden thought struck him, "It felt like I was dying," Graham shook his head helplessly, "The rest is blank...just snatches of memory, and you. You helping me and...I'm sorry, Sir. That's all I remember."

"Don't let it bother you, Graham," Absently, he patted his assistant on the shoulder, mind busy putting all the pieces in their place. "I know precisely what Woodrue did."

"What, Sir?" Graham was uncertain if he was supposed to ask, Dr. Arcane looked rather preoccupied.

"It was a well prepared plan," Arcane almost had to respect the intricate planning involved; "You really do have to admire his determination – if not his intelligence. After all," pausing in front of Graham he surveyed his assistant critically, "no mere clone could have recreated your personality and mannerisms so perfectly as to actually fool me!"

"Clone?!" Graham frowned.

"Yes, Graham," Arcane rubbed his hands together, yet another opportunity to show off his genius – not that it was ever in any doubt, "Woodrue sent a clone of you to me in order to get close enough to make an assassination attempt. It almost succeeded; it really was quite amazing how perfectly it represented you, Graham. Woodrue even used a clone of Sunderland to waylay any doubts I may have had. Of course, my genius was too much for it," Arcane bragged, resolutely shoving away the memory of who he'd thought of as Graham, dying in his arms – and himself helpless to stop it. "—Woodrue devised a method of linking the subjects mind directly into the clones. In this case," Arcane tapped Graham's temple, "your mind linked directly to the clones, enabling it to draw on your memories and mannerisms."

"Wait," Graham resisted the urge to throw up, the mental picture of Woodrue being able to rummage through his mind was not particularly pleasant. "Does that mean that Woodrue did the same thing to Sunderland?" A mere lab assistant was one thing, but he couldn't imagine that even Woodrue would dare to make a move like that against the General. Even the Doctor was careful around the old man.

"Of course not, you idiot," Losing all patience, Arcane snapped, determined not to feel guilty when Graham flinched away from him. "Woodrue merely cloned the old bat. Probably stole the General's DNA years ago – and been perfecting a clone ever since."

"Why didn't Woodrue just do the same to me," Graham hated to sound ignorant, but – "wouldn't it have been, well, simpler?"

"Simpler, Graham," Arcane rolled his eyes, "It's an impossibility to mature a clone in just over two weeks time...let alone develop its mentality above that of a child's!"

"Oh," Graham huddled back into his blanket. *Stupid question.*

"Yes," Arcane turned away, "it all makes sense. When your clone died the link between your two minds was still open, allowing you to experience a part of that death also. Almost fatally, I might add." Nodding to himself, he continued to pace, "You must have been forced into a coma in order to protect you from complete brain failure. Of course, that's why he took the risk of bringing you back to Houma," Arcane smiled, pleased, "he needed to have you near enough for the link to remain stable."

"How did my clone die?" Graham almost didn't have to ask, there was a faint memory nagging at the back of his mind – a tearing pain in the chest, and sudden complete, numbing cold – he didn't need Arcane's sudden uneasy expression to confirm anything. "You shot me!"

"Yes, well," Arcane felt a brief flicker of guilt, before anger surged up to take its place. Turning, he glared at Graham's accusatory look, "Your clone was trying to kill me! What was I supposed to do?! Lie down and let it bloody shoot me?!"

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir," Graham hastily apologized, "It's just been, well, a very long day. I, I didn't mean …"

"I understand Graham," Arcane pulled his assistant to his feet, "You should go rest. There's nothing more that needs to be done right this moment."

"But, Sir –"

"No buts, Graham," he steered him gently towards the elevator, "Go get some sleep, or do I have to escort you and give you a sedative?"

"No, sir," Graham sighed tiredly, "I think I can manage some sleep."

"Good man, Graham," Already turning away, Arcane spoke absently. It was clear his mind was miles from his assistant.

*Guess everything's back to normal,* Graham sighed –

"Oh, Graham, it's good to have you back, old chap." Arcane called out as the doors slid closed, smiling at his assistant's happy grin. Everything was back as it should be –

Many miles and a Country away, a solitary figure leaned back comfortably. Soon another would join him, and then the true revenge would begin. Anton Arcane and his pathetic assistant wouldn't know what hit them.

The End


End file.
